LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Class 


THE  WORKS   OF 

EDWARD    EVERETT    HALE 
fctbrarg  iSDttton 

VOLUME  V 


PHILIP   NOLAN'S   FRIENDS 


Philip  Nolan's  Friends 

A  Story  of  the  Change  of  Western 
Empire 


BY 


EDWARD    E.   HALE 

Author  of 

"A    MAN    WITHOUT    A    COUNTRY,"     "UPS    AND    DOWNS/ 
"THE    BRICK    MOON,"    AND    "  SYBARIS  " 


P.  Y  r     ;;.;, 
BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 

1910 


Copyright,  1876, 
BY  SCRIBNER,   ARMSTRONG,  &  Co. 

Copyright,  1899, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 

Copyright,  1904, 
BY  EDWARD  E.  HALE. 


l  rights  reserved 


8.  J.  PABKHILL  &  Co.,  BOSTON,  0.  S.  A. 


Preface 

TO   THE   EDITION   OF    1899 

THE  war  with  Spain  compels  us,  whether  we  wish 
to  or  not,  to  look  back  on  our  early  history. 

It  compels  us  to  ask  why  the  population  of  the 
southwestern  part  of  the  United  States  disbelieves 
Spain,  distrusts  her,  and  is  delighted  to  make  war 
with  her. 

As  I  believe,  the  cause  of  this  hatred  and  want  of 
confidence  is  in  the  history  which  follows  in  the 
reader's  hands.  In  the  year  1801,  Philip  Nolan,  a 
citizen  of  Kentucky,  had  organized  a  company  of 
nearly  twenty  Southwestern  men  to  go  into  Texas  on 
a  commission  from  the  Spanish  Governor  of  Orleans. 
On  the  22d  of  March,  1801,  this  same  Philip  Nolan 
was  killed  by  the  Spanish  Governor  of  Texas,  who 
knew  that  he  had  the  pass  of  the  Spanish  Governor 
of  Orleans.  His  comrades  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
languished  in  New  Mexico  for  the  next  ten  years. 
In  1807  they  were  made  to  throw  dice  for  their  lives, 
and  Ephraim  Blackburn,  who  threw  the  lowest  cast, 
was  taken  out  and  shot.  This  was  done  to  men  who 
were  in  Texas  on  their  legitimate  business,  with  the 
authority  of  the  King  of  Spain. 

227622 


vi  Preface 

When,  then,  in  the  twenties  of  this  century,  pro- 
posals were  made  by  one  person  and  another  for  the 
American  colonization  of  Texas,  they  came  into  a 
region  where  every  man  knew  of  this  infamous  story 
of  Spanish  dishonor.  People  who  recollect  what 
happened  at  the  Alamo  and  in  other  parts  of  Texas, 
in  the  battles  which  resulted  in  Texan  independence, 
know  how  the  hatred  of  Spain  was  then  fostered ;  and 
it  was  under  such  conditions  that  the  massacre  of  the 
crew  of  the  "  Virginius,"  twenty-six  years  ago,  fell  on 
sensitive  minds  among  that  population.  It  is  in  a 
generation  afterwards  that  these  people  hear  the 
stories  of  the  reconcentrados  and  the  other  cruelties 
of  Weyler. 

IN  reprinting  this  story,  twenty-three  years  after  it 
was  written,  it  has  to  me  therefore  a  pathetic  interest. 
As  I  believe,  it  relates  to  forgotten  events  which  have 
great  importance  in  view  of  the  recent  war.  At  the 
period  when  I  wrote  it,  the  horrors  of  the  "Virgin- 
ius "  massacre  were  still  fresh,  and  those  words,  now 
so  instructive,  of  General  Grant,  "  If  Spain  cannot 
redress  these  outrages,  the  United  States  can  and 
will." 

The  little  world  of  New  England  chooses  to  be 
somewhat  surprised  with  the  absolute  unanimity  of 
feeling  in  the  Southwest  that  Spain  could  never  be 
trusted.  I  believe  now,  as  I  believed  in  1876,  that 
the  Spanish  government  laid  the  foundations  for  this 
distrust  in  its  infamous  conduct  regarding  Texas 
and  the  Nolan  transaction,  for  which  I  have  never 
heard  any  pretence  of  justification. 


Preface 


vn 


In  the  State  Department  at  Washington  they  have, 
or  think  they  have,  but  one  letter  regarding  the  real 
Philip  Nolan.  It  is  the  transcript  of  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Jefferson,  asking  for  information  with  regard  to 
wild  horses.  The  answer  to  this  letter,  I  think,  is  in 
the  library  of  the  Philosophical  Society  in  Philadel- 
phia. The  court  records  of  the  hearing  before  Nolan 
crossed  the  Mississippi  on  his  fatal  journey  are,  I 
suppose,  in  the  records  of  the  United  States  District 
Court  in  Mississippi  ;  they  were  there  as  late  as  1863. 
I  have  myself  the  record  of  the  trial  of  Jesse  Cook, 
Antonio  Leal,  and  Francis  Peter  Jeremiah  Longue- 
ville  at  San  Antonio,  Texas.  They  were  "  suspected  of 
corresponding  secretly  with  the  American  Mr.  Philip 
Nolan."  The  date  is  January  23,  1801.  I  will  take 
some  occasion  to  publish  a  translation  of  this  curious 
document,  made  for  me  by  the  skill  of  Judge  Emery. 

In  the  state  archives  of  Texas  I  found  many  papers 
bearing  on  the  same  enterprise.  Mr.  Quintero  had 
collected  many  more  than  I  have,  and  from  these  he 
favored  me  with  an  autograph  of  the  real  Philip 
Nolan.  There  is  a  poor  miniature  painting  of  Nolan, 
painted  before  he  started  on  his  expedition,  in  the 
possession  of  my  friend  Mr.  Miner,  who  is  of  the 
family  of  Fanny  Lintot,  whom  Nolan  had  married 
before  this  expedition.  Nolan  never  saw  his  son,  who 
was  born  after  his  death,  as  the  last  chapters  of  this 
novel  show.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the  portrait  does 
not  quite  come  up  to  the  character  which  I  have 
drawn  of  the  young  adventurer. 

Near  the  mouth  of  the  James  River,  there  lies  the 
body  of  a  colored  soldier  named  Philip  Nolan,  who 


viii  Preface 

gave  his  life  for  his  country  in  the  Civil  War.  He 
belonged  to  a  Louisiana  regiment,  and  I  suppose 
that  he  was  born  on  the  plantation  of  Mr.  Miner,  and 
received  his  name  from  the  martyr  of  Texas. 

In  Wilkinson's  correspondence  are  two  or  three 
references  to  Nolan,  and  it  was  from  this  correspond- 
ence that  I  accidentally  took  his  name  for  the  hero 
of  "  The  Man  without  a  Country."  I  have  no  doubt 
that  proper  investigation  of  the  Spanish  documents  in 
Mexico,  in  Monterey,  and  in  Chihuahua,  would  bring 
up  many  other  details  of  his  adventure.  In  fact,  the 
Spanish  were  much  better  informed  of  his  adventure, 
and  of  Burr's,  than  Mr.  Jefferson's  government  was. 
And  if  anybody  ever  chooses  to  write  the  history  of 
Aaron  Burr's  project,  —  a  very  tempting  subject  open 
to  somebody  who  has  the  historical  instinct,  —  he  will 
find  more  materials  in  Mexico  than  he  will  find  in 
the  United  States. 


WRITING  in  1876,  I  did  not  like  to  say  what  I  can 
now  say  of  the  "  Ransom "  of  this  book.  Ransom 
is  described  in  grateful  recollection  of  Abel  Fullum. 
I  sometimes  call  Abel  Fullum  "  the  last  of  the  feudal 
vassals."  He  was  a  retainer  in  my  father's  family 
from  the  summer  of  1820  until  he  died,  on  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  December,  1886.  I  have  given  some 
notice  of  the  life  of  this  faithful  friend  of  mine  in 
"  A  New  England  Boyhood/'  which  will  appear  in  a 
subsequent  volume  of  this  series.  In  the  book  in 
the  reader's  hands  I  have  represented  him  as  well  as 


Preface  ix 

I  could,  as  he  would  have  lived  and  moved  under  the 
circumstances  of  the  story.  Writing  the  story  "East 
and  West,"  some  years  afterward,  I  tried  again  the 
experiment  of  carrying  out  his  life  in  that  novel,  of 
which  he  is  the  most  important  character.  It  is  a 
pleasure  to  me,  writing  after  his  death,  to  speak  with 
gratitude  of  the  services  which  he  rendered  to  me 
personally  for  almost  seventy  years,  and  of  his  loyalty, 
his  energy,  his  inborn  wisdom,  —  qualities  which 
asserted  themselves  in  the  life  of  a  man  who  had 
next  to  nothing  of  the  learning  of  the  schools,  and 
was  almost  ostentatiously  ignorant  on  all  subjects 
which  he  had  not  studied  for  himself. 


The  words  which  follow  were  written  as  a  pref- 
ace to  the  original  edition,  published,  as  has  been 
said,  just  after  the  massacre  of  the  crew  of  the 
"Virginius." 

EDWARD  E.  HALE. 

ROXBURY,  July  21,  1899. 


Preface 

TO    THE    FIRST    EDITION 

silence  of  our  historians  on  the  subject  of  the 
JL  annexation  of  Louisiana  to  the  United  States, 
or  their  indifference,  is  very  curious.  It  is  perhaps 
even  necessary  to  explain  to  the  general  reader  of 
to-day,  that  the  "  annexation  of  Louisiana "  was 
the  annexation  of  all  that  the  United  States  holds 
west  of  the  Mississippi,  excepting  the  province  of 
Alaska,  and  the  regions  secured  by  the  Mexican 
war  and  consequent  negotiation  with  Mexico.  The 
standard  histories,  when  they  speak  of  the  annex- 
ation, allude  to  the  final  debates  in  Congress ;  and 
the  history  of  the  negotiation,  as  given  by  Marbois, 
the  French  negotiator,  is  sometimes  condensed.  But 
little  more  is  said.  Yet  it  is  the  annexation  of 
Louisiana  which  makes  the  United  States  of  to-day 
to  be  one  of  the  great  powers.  Without  the  im- 
mense region  then  known  as  Louisiana,  no  Pacific 
coast,  no  California,  —  no  "  empire  from  ocean  to 
ocean." 

I  suppose  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  Federalists  had 
attacked  the  purchase  so  eagerly  that  they  were 
afraid  their  attack  would  be  remembered.  Of  the 
distinguished  Western '  men,  the  separate  plans  had 


xii  Preface 

been  so  diverse,  sometimes  so  treasonable,  that  their 
representatives  have  not  dwelt  much  on  the  story. 
On  Mr.  Jefferson's  part,  I  think  there  was  an  uneasy 
feeling  that  the  credit  was  none  of  his.  The  truth 
is,  that  the  credit  —  so  far  as  there  is  any  to  be  given 
to  one  man  —  of  this  great  transaction,  which  makes 
the  United  States  what  it  is,  is  to  be  given  to  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte.  I  mean  that  he  originated  the  plan 
which  was  carried  out,  which  no  one  else  had  pro- 
posed ;  and  he  is  the  only  public  character,  of  those 
who  had  to  do  with  it,  who  seems  to  have  had,  at  the 
time,  any  clear  sense  of  its  importance,  or  of  the 
results  which  would  follow.  "  I  have  given  England 
her  rival."  These  were  his  prophetic  words  when 
the  treaty  was  concluded. 

The  belligerent  operations  of  John  Adams's  ad- 
ministration are  always  spoken  of  by  the  historians 
as  aimed  at  France.  They  were  so  spoken  of  at  the 
time,  in  print.  Twelve  regiments  of  infantry  and  one 
of  cavalry  were  authorized  to  serve  "  during  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  existing  differences  with  the  French 
republic."  A  considerable  part  of  these  regiments 
was  raised.  The  recruits — to  fight  against  France  — 
were  assembled  at  our  ports  on  the  Ohio  and  Missis- 
sippi ;  that  is,  they  were  removed  so  far  from  any 
points  where  they  could  be  used  against  France. 
The  boats  which  were  to  take  them  down  the  river, 
to  take  Orleans,  a  Spanish  post,  were  built  and  were 
in  readiness.  I  have  read  the  manuscript  corre- 
spondence between  Hamilton,  the  acting  commander 
of  the  new  army,  and  Wilkinson,  the  commander  on 
the  Ohio,  with  reference  to  this  proposed  attack  on 


Preface 


Xlll 


Orleans.  Wilkinson  himself  made  a  visit  to  Hamil- 
ton, to  adjust  the  details  of  the  campaign.  This  mine 
was  ready  to  be  sprung  upon  poor  Spain,  when  the 
republic  of  the  United  States  should  make  war  with 
"  the  French  republic." 

Two  fortunate  or  unfortunate  events,  in  which  the 
War  Office  has  been  injured  by  fire,  have  destroyed 
many  of  the  documents  which  once  described  the 
details  of  these  preparations.  In  those  days  govern- 
ments did  not  discount  their  victories,  nor  state  their 
plans  in  advance  in  the  journals.  And  so  John 
Adams's  expedition  against  the  Spanish  town  of 
Orleans  goes  into  history  as  a  part  of  the  "  French 
War." 

I  felt  that  I  owed  something  to  the  memory  of 
Philip  Nolan,  whose  name  I  once  took  unguardedly 
for  the  name  of  a  hero  of  my  own  creation,  who  was 
supposed  to  live  at  another  time.  The  part  which 
the  real  Philip  Nolan  played  in  our  history  is  far 
more  important  than  that  of  many  a  man  who  has 
statues  raised  in  his  honor.  So  far  as  careful  work 
among  the  memorials  of  his  life  would  serve,  I  have 
tried  to  rescue  him  from  the  complete  oblivion  which 
hangs  over  him.  He  was  murdered  by  the  Spanish 
Government,  who  dishonored  their  own  passport  for 
his  murder.  Were  such  an  event  possible  now,  war 
within  an  hour  would  be  the  consequence.  In  the 
recent  case  of  the  "  Virginius,"  the  most  angry  of 
Cuban  sympathizers  did  not  pretend  that  there  had 
been  any  such  violation  of  the  right  of  nations.  But 
Spain  was  strong  then,  and  America  was  weak,  and 
Mr.  Jefferson  was  "  pacific." 


xiv  Preface 

America  is  now  strong,  and  Spain  is  weak,  —  how 
strong,  and  how  weak,  the  story  of  the  "  Virginius  " 
showed.  If  we  trace  events  to  their  unconscious 
causes,  we  may  say  that  no  single  day  has  done  so 
much  to  make  America  strong,  and  to  make  Spain 
weak,  as  that  day  in  1801,  when  a  Spanish  officer, 
under  his  king's  commission,  murdered  Philip  Nolan, 
bearing  the  same  king's  passport  for  his  lawful  ad- 
venture. 

The  documents  which  illustrate  this  history,  in 
the  archives  of  San  Antonio  and  of  Austin,  are  very 
numerous.  To  the  cordial  assistance  of  the  officers 
of  every  name,  who  have  helped  me  to  find  and  use 
them,  I  am  greatly  indebted.  To  Mr.  Quintero,  who 
gave  me  the  full  use  of  his  rich  collections  in  the 
archives  of  Monterey,  which  I  have  not  visited,  I 
have  tried  to  express  my  obligations.  But,  indeed, 
I  have  received  so  much  kind  help  in  the  preparation 
of  this  little  book,  from  a  thousand  friends  in  the 
South  and  West,  that  I  cannot  thank  them  all  by 
name.  My  readers  owe  it  to  them,  if  they  gain  any 
new  light  on  our  history,  as  they  follow  the  adven- 
tures of  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS. 

EDWARD  E.  HALE, 

ROXBURY,  Nov.  6,  1876. 


The  originals  of  the  correspondence  between  Ham- 
ilton and  Wilkinson,  which  I  have  named  above,  were 
in  Louisville,  Kentucky,  in  April,  1876,  and  were 
examined  by  me  there.  They  were  the  property  of 


Preface  xv 

a  relative  of  Wilkinson.  In  preparing  these  sheets 
for  the  press,  I  wrote  to  Louisville,  to  obtain  the 
privilege  of  consulting  them  again.  My  correspond- 
ent, alas,  sends  me  the  following  reply  :  — 

"  The  papers  were  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Bigot,  a  Frenchman 
of  New  Orleans,  who  married  a  daughter  of  General  Wilkinson. 
Bigot  came  to  Louisville  to  live.  Colonel  Durett  and  Colonel 
John  Mason  Brown  knew  him,  and  tried  earnestly  but  fruitlessly 
to  get  possession  of  those  most  valuable  letters.  Bigot  was 
poor  and  became  constantly  poorer.  He  died  suddenly,  much 
in  debt  to  his  landlord  for  rent,  and  to  others.  The  Wilkinson 
papers  fell  into  the  landlord's  hands,  who  took  them,  with  *  other 
trash/  out  into  the  commons,  and  burnt  them ! 

"  How  little  did  the  hungry  flames  dream  of  the  preciousness 
of  the  treasures  they  were  consuming  !  " 

Wilkinson  had  been  Gates's  aide  at  Saratoga,  and 
this  box  contained  two  autograph  notes  of  General 
Burgoyne  in  reference  to  the  surrender. 

July  21,  1899. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  PARTING 3 

II.  A  MEETING 16 

III.  PHILIP  NOLAN 27 

IV.  "  SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS  ! " 39 

V.    SAVE  ME  FROM   MY   FRIENDS 52 

VI.    GOOD-BY         64 

VII.  THE  SAN  ANTONIO  ROAD 78 

VIII.   THE  DRESSED  DAY 97 

IX.  TALKING  AND  WALKING 115 

X.  LIFE  ON  THE  BRASSOS 134 

XL  RUMORS  OF  WARS 146 

XII.    "LOVE  WAITS   AND  WEEPS " 154 

XIII.  NIGHT  AND  DAY 172 

XIV.  A  PACKET  OF  LETTERS 182 

XV.  COURTS  AND  CAMPS 192 

XVI.  NEWS?  WHAT  NEWS? 200 

XVII.   MINES  AND  COUNTER-MINES 220 

XVIII.  WILL  HARROD'S  FORTUNES 228 

XIX.  THE  WARNING 238 

XX.  A  TERTULIA 249 

XXI.   "  THE  MAN  I  HATE  "      262 

XXII.  BATTLE 275 

XXIII.  AT  SAN  ANTONIO 283 

XXIV.  "I  MUST  GO  HOME" 292 

XXV.    COUNTERMARCH 301 

XXVI.   HOMEWARD  BOUND      .    .    .    .   • 314 

XXVIT.   HOME  AS  FOUND 325 

XXVIII.   GENERAL  BOWLES 333 


xviii  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIX.    "WHERE   SHALL   SHE   GO?" 34O 

XXX.  MOTHER  AND  CHILD 350 

XXXI.  ON  THE  PLANTATION 356 

XXXII.  THE  DESOLATE  HOME 363 

XXXIII.  ALONE       375 

XXXIV.  ALL  WILL  BE  WELL 387 

XXXV.  SAVAGE  LIFE 397 

XXXVI.  IN  PRISON,  AND  YE  VISITED  ME 409 

XXXVII.  FACE  TO  FACE 420 

XXXVIII.  WHAT  NEXT? 434 

XXXIX.  A  FAMILY  DINNER 457 


PHILIP   NOLAN'S   FRIENDS; 

OR,    SHOW   YOUR    PASSPORTS 


PHILIP    NOLAN'S    FRIENDS; 

OR, 

SHOW   YOUR   PASSPORTS 


CHAPTER  I 

A  PARTING 

"  Oh  !  saw  ye  not  fair  Inez  ? 

She  has  gone  into  the  West, 

To  dazzle  when  the  sun  is  down, 

And  rob  the  world  of  rest.'7 

THOMAS  HOOD. 

OOD-BY!" 

"Good-by,  papa;  "  and  the  poor  girl  waved 
her  handkerchief,  and  broke  into  tears,  though  she 
had  held  up  perfectly  till  now. 

"  Tirez  ! "  cried  Sancho,  the  blackest  of  all  possible 
black  men ;  and  he  shook  his  fist  at  his  crew  of  twenty 
willing  rowers,  almost  as  black  as  he.  The  men  gave 
way  heartily,  and  in  good  time;  the  boat  shot  out 
from  the  levee,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Inez  could  no 
longer  see  her  father's  handkerchief,  nor  he  hers. 
Still  he  stood  watching  the  receding  boat,  till  it  was 
quite  lost  among  the  crowd  of  flat-boats  and  other 
vessels  in  the  river. 

The  parting,  indeed,  between  father  and  daughter 
was  such  as  did  not  often  take  place,  even  in  those 


4  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

regions,  in  those  times.  Silas  Perry,  the  father  of 
this  young  girl,  was  a  successful  merchant,  who  had 
been  established  near  forty  years  in  the  French  and 
Spanish  colony  of  Orleans,  then  a  small  colonial  trad- 
ing-post, which  gave  little  pledge  of  the  great  city  of 
New  Orleans  of  to-day.  He  had  gone  there  —  a 
young  New  Englander,  who  had  his  fortunes  to 
make  —  in  the  year  1763,  when  the  King  of  France 
first  gave  Louisiana  to  his  well-beloved  cousin,  King 
of  Spain.  Silas  Perry  had  his  fortunes  to  make  — 
and  he  made  them.  He  had  been  loyal  to  the  cause 
of  his  own  country,  so  soon  as  he  heard  of  tea  thrown 
over,  of  stamps  burned  in  King  Street,  and  of  effigies 
hanging  on  Liberty  Tree.  He  had  wrought  gallantly 
with  his  friend  and  fellow-countryman,  Oliver  Pollock, 
in  forwarding  Spanish  gunpowder  from  the  king's 
stores  to  Washington's  army,  by  the  unsuspected 
route  of  the  Mississippi  and  Ohio.  He  had  wrought 
his  way  into  the  regards  of  successive  Spanish 
governors,  and  had  earned  the  respect  of  the  more 
important  of  the  French  planters. 

At  this  time  the  greater  part  of  the  handful  of  white 
people  who  made  the  ruling  class  in  Orleans  were 
French ;  and  a  brilliant  "  society  "  did  the  little  col- 
ony maintain.  But  it  had  happened  to  Silas  Perry, 
whose  business  had  often  called  him  to  the  Havana, 
that  he  had  there  wooed,  won,  and  married  a  Spanish 
lady;  and  about  the  times  of  tea  parties,  stamp-acts, 
English  troops  recalled  from  the  Mississippi,  and 
other  such  matters,  Silas  Perry  had  busied  himself 
largely  in  establishing  his  new  home  in  Orleans,  and 
in  bringing  his  bride  there.  Here  the  Spanish  lady 


or,  Show  your  Passports  5 

was  cordially  made  welcome  by  the  ladies  of  the  little 
court,  in  which  governor  and  commandant  and  the 
rest  were  of  Spanish  appointment,  though  their  sub- 
jects were  of  French  blood.  Here  she  lived  quietly; 
and  here,  after  ten  years,  she  died,  leaving  to  her 
husband  but  two  children.  One  of  them  had  been 
sent  to  Paris  for  his  education,  nine  years  before  the 
time  when  the  reader  sees  his  sister.  For  it  is  his 
sister,  who  was  an  infant  when  her  mother  died,  whom 
we  now  see,  sixteen  years  after,  waving  her  handker- 
chief to  her  father  as  the  barge  recedes  from  the  levee. 
Other  children  had  died  in  infancy.  This  little  Inez 
herself  was  but  six  months  old  when  her  mother  died ; 
and  she  had  passed  through  infancy  and  girlhood 
without  a  mother's  care. 

But  her  father  had  risen  to  the  emergency  in  a  New 
Englander's  fashion.  Not  that  he  looked  round  to 
find  a  French  lady  to  take  the  place  of  the  Spanish 
donna.  Not  he.  He  did  write  home  to  Squam  Bay, 
and  stated  to  his  sister  Eunice  the  needs  of  the  little 
child.  He  did  not  tell  Eunice  that  if  she  came  to  be  the 
child's  second  mother  she  would  exchange  calls  with 
marchionesses,  would  dress  in  silks,  and  ride  in  car- 
riages. He  knew  very  well  that  none  of  these  things 
would  move  her.  He  did  tell  her  that,  if  she  did  not 
watch  over  the  little  thing  in  her  growth,  nobody  else 
would  but  himself.  He  knew  what  he  relied  upon  in 
saying  this ;  and  on  the  return  of  Captain  Tucker  in 
the  schooner  "  Dolores,"  sure  enough,  the  aunt  of  the 
little  orphaned  baby  had  appeared,  with  a  very  droll 
assortment  of  trunks  and  other  baggage,  in  the  most 
approved  style  of  Squam  Bay.  She  was  herself 


6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

scarcely  seventeen  years  old  when  she  thus  changed 
her  home ;  but  she  had  the  conscientious  decision  to 
which  years  of  struggle  had  trained  her  before  her 
time.  She  loved  her  brother,  and  she  was  determined 
to  do  her  duty  by  his  child.  To  that  child  she  had 
ever  since  been  faithful  with  all  a  mother's  care. 

And  so  Miss  Inez  had  grown  up  in  a  French  town, 
under  Spanish  government,  but  with  her  every-day 
life  directed  under  the  simplest  traditions  of  New 
England.  With  her  little  friends  and  on  any  visit, 
she  saw  from  day  to  day  the  habits,  so  utterly  differ- 
ent from  those  of  home,  of  a  French  colony  well 
disposed  to  exaggerate  the  customs  of  France.  For 
language,  she  spoke  English  at  home,  after  the  fashion 
of  the  New  Englanders ;  but  in  the  society  of  her 
playmates  and  friends  she  spoke  French,  after  the  not 
debased  fashion  of  the  Creole  French  of  Louisiana. 
Through  all  her  life,  however,  Louisiana  had  been 
under  the  Spanish  rule.  Silas  Perry  himself  spoke 
and  read  Spanish  perfectly  well,  and  he  had  taught 
Inez  to  use  it  with  ease.  The  girl  had,  indeed,  read 
no  little  of  the  masterpieces  of  Spanish  literature,  so 
far  as,  in  a  life  not  very  often  thwarted  at  home,  she 
had  found  what  pleased  her  among  her  father's 
books. 

She  was  now  parted  from  him  for  the  first  time,  if 
we  except  short  visits  on  one  plantation  or  another 
on  the  coast.  The  occasion  of  the  parting  was  an 
unrelenting  storm  of  letters  and  messages  from  her 
mother's  only  sister,  Donna  Maria  Dolores,  the  wife 
of  a  Spanish  officer  of  high  rank,  named  Barelo.  For 
some  years  now  this  husband  had  been  stationed  at 


or,  Show  your  Passports  7 

the  frontier  post  of  San  Antonio,  in  the  province 
which  was  beginning  to  take  the  name  of  Texas ;  and 
in  this  little  settlement  Donna  Maria,  lonely  enough 
herself,  was  making  such  sunshine  as  she  could  for 
those  around  her.  Forlorn  as  such  a  position  seems, 
perhaps,  to  people  with  fixed  homes,  it  was  anything 
but  forlorn  to  Donna  Maria.  She  had  lived,  she 
said,  "  the  life  of  an  Arab  "  till  now ;  and  now  to  know 
that  her  husband  was  really  stationed  here,  though  the 
station  were  a  frontier  garrison,  was  to  know  that  for 
the  first  time  since  her  girlhood  she  was  to  have  the 
luxury  of  a  home. 

No  sooner  were  her  household  gods  established, 
than  she  began,  by  the  very  infrequent  "  opportuni- 
ties "  for  writing  which  the  frontier  permitted,  to  hurl 
the  storm  of  letters  on  Silas  Perry's  defenceless  head. 
Fortunately  for  him,  indeed,  "  opportunities "  were 
few.  This  word,  in  the  use  we  now  make  of  it,  is  taken 
from  the  older  vocabulary  of  New  England,  in  whose 
language  it  implied  a  method  of  sending  a  letter  out- 
side of  any  mail.  Just  as  in  English  novels  you  find 
people  speaking  of  "  franks  "  for  letters,  these  older 
New  Englanders  spoke  of  "  opportunities/'  Mail  be- 
tween Texas  and  Orleans  there  was  not,  never  had 
been,  and,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  never  would  be. 
"  Had  I  the  power,"  said  the  Governor  Salcedo,  "  I 
would  not  let  a  bird  cross  from  Louisiana  to  Texas. " 
But  sometimes  a  stray  priest  going  to  confer  with  the 
bishop  of  Orleans,  sometimes  a  government  messen- 
ger from  Mexico,  sometimes  a  concealed  horse-trader, 
and  always  camps  of  Indians,  passed  the  frontier  east- 
ward, on  one  pretext  or  another;  and,  with  proper 


8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

license  given,  there  was  no  reason  left  why  they 
should  not,  after  Louisiana  became  in  name  a  Span- 
ish province.  No  such  stray  traveller  came  to  the 
city  without  finding  Silas  Perry;  and  inevitably  he 
brought  a  double  letter,  —  an  affectionate  note  to  Inez, 
begging  her  to  write  to  her  mother's  sister,  and  an 
urgent  and  persuasive  one  to  her  father,  begging  him, 
by  all  that  was  sacred,  not  to  let  the  child  grow  up 
without  knowing  her  mother's  only  relations. 

Silas  Perry's  heart  was  still  tender.  If  he  had  lived 
to  be  a  thousand,  he  would  never  have  forgotten  the 
happy  days  in  the  Havana,  when  he  wooed  and  won 
his  Spanish  bride,  nor  the  loyal  help  that  her  sister 
Dolores  gave  to  the  wooing  and  to  the  winning.  But 
till  now  he  had  the  advantage  of  possession ;  and  the 
priests  and  soldiers  and  traders  always  carried  back 
affectionate  letters,  explaining  how  much  Inez  loved 
her  aunt,  but  how  impossible  it  was  for  her  to  come. 
The  concocting  of  these  letters  had  become  almost 
a  family  joke  at  home. 

It  may  help  the  reader's  chronology  if  we  say  that 
our  story  begins  in  the  first  year  which  bore  the 
number  of  "  eighteen  hundred;  "  he  may  call  it  the 
last  year  of  the  eighteenth  century,  or  the  first  of 
the  nineteenth,  as  he  likes  to  be  accurate  or  inac- 
curate. At  this  time  business  required  that  Silas 
Perry  should  go  to  Paris,  and  leave  his  home  for 
many  months,  perhaps  for  a  year.  Silas  would  gladly 
have  taken  his  sister  Eunice  and  his  daughter  with 
him ;  but  travel  was  not  what  it  is  now,  nor  was 
Paris  what  it  is  now.  And  although  he  did  not 
think  his  daughter's  head  would  be  cut  off,  still  he 


or,  Show  your  Passports  9 

doubted  so  far  what  he  might  find  in  Paris,  that  he 
shrank  from  taking  her  thither.  As  it  happened, 
at  this  moment  there  came  a  particularly  well-aimed 
shaft  from  Aunt  Dolores's  armory ;  and  fortune  added 
an  "  opportunity/'  not  only  for  reply,  but  for  per- 
mitting Inez  and  her  aunt  to  make  the  journey  into 
Texas  under  competent  escort  if  they  chose  to  sub- 
mit themselves  to  all  the  hardships  of  travel  across 
prairies  and  through  a  wilderness.  True,  the  enter- 
prise was  utterly  unheard  of:  this  did  not  make  it 
less  agreeable  in  Silas  Perry's  eyes.  It  was  not  such 
an  enterprise  as  Donna  Maria  Dolores  had  proposed. 
She  had  arranged  that  the  girl  should  be  sent  with 
proper  companionship,  on  one  of  Silas's  vessels,  to 
Corpus  Christi  on  the  Gulf.  She  had  promised  to 
go  down  herself  to  meet  her,  with  an  escort  of  lancers 
whom  their  friend  Governor  Herrera  had  promised 
her.  But  Silas  Perry  had  not  liked  this  plan.  He 
said  boldly,  that,  if  the  girl  were  to  ride  a  hundred 
miles,  she  might  ride  three  hundred.  Mr.  Nolan  would 
take  better  care  of  her  than  any  Governor  Herrera 
of  them  all.  "  Women  always  supposed  you  were 
sending  schooners  into  mud-holes,  where  there  was 
nothing  to  buy,  and  nothing  to  sell."  And  so  the 
most  improbable  of  all  possible  events  took  place. 
By  way  of  preparation  for  going  to  Paris,  Silas  Perry 
sent  his  precious  daughter,  and  his  sister  only  less 
precious,  on  a  long  land-journey  of  adventure,  to 
make  a  visit  as  long,  at  least,  as  his  own  was.  It 
need  not  be  said,  if  the  reader  apprehends  what  man- 
ner of  man  he  was,  that  he  had  provided  for  her 
comfort,  so  far  as  forethought,  lavish  expenditure, 


io  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

and  a  wide  acquaintance  with  the  country  could 
provide  for  it.  If  he  had  not  come  to  this  sudden 
and  improbable  determination,  this  story  would  not 
have  to  be  written. 

Inez,  as  has  been  said,  fairly  broke  down  as  the 
rowers  gave  way.  Her  Aunt  Eunice  kept  up  the 
pretence  of  flying  her  handkerchief  till  they  had 
wholly  lost  sight  of  the  point  of  their  embarkation. 
And  then  the  first  words  of  comfort  which  came  to 
the  sobbing  girl  were  not  from  her  aunt. 

"Take  one  o'  them  Boston  crackers;  they  say 
they's  dreadful  good  when  you  go  on  the  water. 
Can't  git  none  all  along  the  coast ;  they  don't  know 
how  to  keep  'em.  So  soon  as  ye  father  said  you 
was  to  go,  I  told  old  Tucker  to  bring  me  some  from 
home;  told  him  where  to  git  'em.  Got  'em  at  Rich- 
ardson's in  School  Street.  Don't  have  'em  good 
nowhere  else." 

Inez,  poor  child,  could  as  easily  have  eaten  a 
horseshoe  as  the  biscuit  which  was  thus  tendered 
her.  But  she  took  it  with  a  pleasant  smile ;  and  the 
words  answered  a  better  purpose  than  Dr.  Flavel's 
homilies  on  contentment  could  have  served. 

The  speaker  was  a  short-set,  rugged  New  Eng- 
lander,  of  about  sixty  years  of  age,  whose  dress  and 
appointments  were  in  every  respect  curiously,  not 
to  say  sedulously,  different  from  those  of  the  Creole 
French,  or  the  Spanish  seamen,  or  the  Western  flat- 
boatmen,  all  around  him.  Regardless  of  treaties,  of 
nationalities,  or  of  birthright  privileges,  Seth  Ransom 
regarded  all  these  people  as  "  furriners,"  and  so 
designated  them,  even  in  the  animated  and  indignant 


or,  Show  your  Passports  n 

conversations  which  he  held  with  them.  He  was 
himself  a  Yankee  of  the  purest  blood,  who  had,  how- 
ever, no  one  of  the  restless  or  adventurous  traits 
attributed  to  the  Yankee  of  fiction  or  of  the  stage. 
He  had,  it  is  true,  followed  the  sea  in  early  life. 
But,  having  fallen  in  with  Silas  Perry  in  Havana, 
he  had  attached  himself  to  his  service  with  a  certain 
feudal  loyalty.  The  institution  of  feudalism,  as  phil- 
osophical students  have  observed,  made  the  vassal 
quite  as  much  the  master  of  his  lord  as  the  master 
was  of  his  vassal,  if  not  more.  That  this  was  the 
reason  why  Seth  Ransom  served  Silas  Perry,  it  would 
be  wrong  to  say.  But  it  is  true  that  he  served  him 
in  a  masterful  way,  as  a  master  serves.  It  is  also 
true  that  he  idolized  Inez,  as  he  had  idolized  her 
mother  before  her.  Of  each,  he  was  the  most  faith- 
ful henchman  and  the  most  loyal  admirer.  Yet  he 
would  address  Inez  personally  with  the  intimate 
terms  in  which  he  spoke  to  her  when  she  was  a  baby 
in  his  arms,  when  perhaps  she  had  been  left  for 
an  hour  in  his  happy  and  perfect  charge.  If  no  one 
else  were  present,  he  would  call  her  "  Een,"  or 
"  Inez/'  as  if  she  had  been  his  own  granddaughter. 
In  the  presence  of  others,  on  the  other  hand,  no  don 
of  the  Governor's  staff  could  have  found  fault  with 
the  precision  of  his  etiquette. 

The  necessities  of  Mr.  Perry's  business  often  sent 
Seth  Ransom  back  to  New  England,  so  that  he 
could  drink  again  from  the  waters  of  the  pump  in 
King  Street,  as  he  still  called  the  State  Street  of 
to-day.  It  was  as  Hercules  sometimes  let  Antaeus  put 
his  foot  to  the  ground.  Ransom  returned  from  each 


i  2  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

such  visit  with  new  contempt  for  everything  which 
he  found  upon  other  shores,  excepting  for  the  house- 
hold of  Silas  Perry,  and  perhaps  a  modified  toleration 
for  that  of  Oliver  Pollock.  For  Silas  Perry  himself, 
for  Miss  Eunice,  and  Miss  Inez,  his  chivalrous  de- 
votion blazed  out  afresh  on  each  return. 

He  was  athletic,  strong,  and  practical.  Nobody 
had  ever  found  anything  he  could  not  do,  excepting 
that  he  read  and  wrote  with  such  difficulty  that  in 
practice  he  never  descended  to  these  arts  except  in  the 
most  trying  emergency.  When,  therefore,  Silas  Perry 
determined  on  his  rash  project  of  sending  his  daughter 
and  sister  under  Mr.  Nolan's  escort  to  San  Antonio, 
he  determined,  of  course,  to  send  Seth  Ransom  with 
them  as  their  body-guard.  The  fact  that  he  sent  him, 
in  truth,  really  relieved  the  enterprise  from  its  rash- 
ness; for,  though  Seth  Ransom  had  never  crossed 
the  prairies,  any  one  who  knew  him,  and  the  relation 
in  which  he  stood  to  Miss  Inez,  knew  that,  if  it  were 
necessary,  he  would  carry  her  from  Natchez  to  the 
Alamo  in  his  arms. 

The  boat  was  soon  free  from  the  little  flotilla  which 
then  made  all  the  commerce  of  the  little  port;  and 
the  steady  stroke  of  the  well-trained  crew  hurried  her 
up  stream  with  a  speed  that  exacted  the  admiration 
of  the  lazy  lookers-on  of  whatever  nation. 

Inez  thanked  her  old  cavalier  for  his  attention, 
made  him  happy  by  asking  him  to  find  something 
for  her  in  a  bag  which  he  had  stowed  away,  and  then 
kept  him  by  her  side. 

"  Do  they  row  as  well  as  this  in  Boston  Harbor, 
Ransom?"  she  said.  For  some  reason  unknown, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  1 3 

Ransom  was  never  addressed  by  his  baptismal 
name. 

"  Don't  have  to.  Ain't  many  niggers  there,  no 
way.  What  they  is  lives  on  Nigger  Hill ;  that 's  all 
on  one  side.  Yes:  some  niggers  goes  to  sea,  but 
them 's  all  cooks.  Don't  have  to  row  much  there. 
Have  sail-boats ;  don't  have  no  rivers." 

The  girl  loved  to  hear  his  dialect,  and  was  not 
averse  to  stir  up  his  resentment  against  all  men 
who  had  not  been  born  under  her  father's  roof,  and 
all  nations  but  those  which  ate  codfish  salted  on 
Saturday. 

"  I  don't  see  where  they  get  their  ducks,  if  they 
have  no  rivers,"  she  said  artfully,  as  if  she  were 
thinking  aloud. 

"  Ducks  !  thousands  on  'em.  Big  ducks  too ;  not 
little  critters  like  these.  Go  into  Faneuil  Hall  Market 
any  day,  and  have  more  ducks  than  you  can  ask  for. 
Ducks  is  nothin'."  And  a  grim  smile  stole  over  his 
face,  as  if  he  were  pleased  that  Inez  had  selected 
ducks  as  the  precise  point  on  which  her  comparison 
should  be  made. 

"  Well,  surely,  Ransom,  they  have  no  sugar-cane," 
said  she ;  and,  by  her  eye,  he  saw  that  she  was  watch- 
ing Sancho,  the  boatswain  as  he  might  be  called, 
who,  as  he  nodded  to  his  men,  solaced  himself  by 
chewing  and  sucking  at  a  bit  of  fresh  cane  from  a 
little  heap  at  his  side. 

"  Sugar-cane !  Guess  not.  Don't  want  'em.  Won't 
touch  yem.  Oceans  of  white  sugar,  all  done  up  in 
sugar-loaves,  jest  when  they  want  it.  Them  as  makes 
sugar  makes  it  in  the  woods,  makes  it  out  of  trees ; 


14  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

don't  have  to  have  them  dirty  niggers  make  it. 
Oceans  of  sugar-loaves  all  the  time !  "  And  again 
that  severe  smile  stole  over  his  face,  and  he  looked 
up  into  the  sky,  almost  as  if  he  saw  celestial  beings 
carrying  purple-papered  sugar-loaves  to  Boston,  and 
as  if — next  to  ducks  —  the  supply  of  sugar  to  that 
town  was  its  marked  characteristic. 

Eunice  Perry  was  glad  to  follow  the  lead  which 
Ransom  had  given,  sagaciously  or  unconsciously. 
Anything  was  better  for  the  voyage  than  a  homesick 
brooding  on  what  they  had  left  behind. 

"  We  must  not  make  Inez  discontented  with 
Orleans  and  the  coast,  Ransom.  Poor  child !  she 
has  nothing  but  roses  and  orange-blossoms,  figs  and 
bananas;  we  must  not  tell  her  too  much  about  russet 
apples,  or  she  will  be  discontented." 

"  I  do  like  russet  apples,  aunty  darling,  quite  as 
well  as  I  like  figs;  but  I  shall  not  be  discontented 
while  I  have  you  on  one  side  of  me,  and  Ransom  on 
the  other,  and  dear  old  Sancho  beating  time  in  front." 
This,  with  a  proud  expression,  as  if  she  knew  they 
were  trying  to  lead  her  out  from  herself,  and  that  she 
did  not  need  to  be  cosseted.  Old  Sancho  caught  the 
glance,  and  started  his  rowers  to  new  energy.  To 
maintain  a  crack  crew  of  oarsmen  was  one  of  the 
boasts  of  the  "  coast "  at  that  time ;  and,  although 
Silas  Perry  was  in  no  sort  a  large  planter,  yet  he 
maintained  the  communication  between  his  plantation 
above  the  city  and  his  home  in  the  city, — which,  for 
himself,  he  preferred  at  any  season  to  any  place  of 
refuge,  —  by  a  crew  as  stalwart  and  as  well  trained  as 
any  planter  of  them  all. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  I  5 

The  boat  on  which  the  two  ladies  and  their  com- 
panions were  embarked  was  not  the  elegant  barge  in 
which  they  usually  made  the  little  voyage  from  the 
plantation  to  their  city  home.  It  was  a  more  business- 
like craft  which  Silas  Perry  had  provided  to  carry  his 
daughter  as  far  as  Natchitoches  on  the  Red  River, 
where  she  and  her  companions  were  to  join  the  land 
expedition  of  Philip  Nolan  and  his  friends.  The 
after-part  of  the  boat  was  protected  from  sun  or  rain 
by  an  awning  or  light  roof,  generally  made  of  sails,  or 
sometimes  of  skins,  but,  in  Inez's  boat,  of  light  wood- 
work ;  it  had  among  the  habitants  the  name  of  tende- 
let.  Under  the  tendelet  a  little  deck,  with  the  privi- 
leges of  all  quarter-decks,  belonged  to  the  master  of 
the  boat  and  his  company.  Here  he  ate  his  meals  by 
day;  here,  if  he  slept  on  board,  he  spread  his  mat- 
tress at  night.  It  was  high  enough  to  give  a  good 
view  of  the  river  and  the  low  shores,  of  any  approach- 
ing boat,  or  any  other  object  of  interest  in  the  some- 
what limited  catalogue  of  river  experiences.  In  the 
preparations  for  the  voyage  of  the  ladies,  curtains 
had  been  arranged,  which  would  screen  them  from 
either  side,  from  the  sun,  from  wind,  or  even  from  a 
shower. 

A  long  tarpaulin,  called  the  pi/laty  was  stretched 
over  the  whole  length  of  the  boat,  to  protect  the 
stores,  the  trunks,  and  other  cargo,  from  the  weather. 
The  rowers  sat  at  the  sides,  old  Sancho  watching 
them  from  the  rear;  while  a  man  in  the  bow,  called 
the  bosman}  who  generally  wielded  a  sort  of  boat- 

>     *  Was  this  word  once  "  boatswain,"  perhaps  ? 


1 6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

hook,  watched  the  course,  and  fended  off  any  floating 
log,  or  watched  for  snag  or  sawyer. 

The  voyage  this  afternoon  was  not  long.  It  was,  as 
Inez  said,  only  a  "  taste-piece."  Eunice  said  it  was 
as  the  caravans  at  the  East  go  a  mile  out  of  town  on 
the  first  night,  so  that  they  may  the  more  easily  send 
back  for  anything  that  is  forgotten. 

"  All  nonsense  !  "  said  Ransom.  "  I  told  ye  father 
might  as  well  start  afore  sunrise,  and  be  at  the  Cross 
to-night:  would  n't  hear  a  word  on  it,  and  so  lost  all 
day." 

In  truth,  Inez  was  to  spend  her  last  night  at  the 
plantation,  which  had  been  her  favorite  summer  home 
for  years,  to  bid  farewell  to  the  servants  there,  and  to 
gather  up  such  of  her  special  possessions  as  could  be 
carried  on  the  packhorses,  on  this  pilgrimage  to  her 
Spanish  aunt.  Her  father  would  gladly  have  come 
with  her,  but  for  the  possibility  that  his  ship  might 
sail  for  Bordeaux  early  the  next  morning. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  MEETING 

"  Pleased  with  a  rattle,  tickled  with  a  straw." 

ALEXANDER  POPE. 

BEFORE  sunrise  the  next  morning  the  final  embarka- 
tion was  to  take  place.  The  whole  house  was  in  an 
uproar.  The  steady  determination  of  old  Chloe, 
chief  of  the  kitchen,  that  Miss  Inez  should  eat  the 
very  best  breakfast  she  ever  saw,  before  she  went  off 


or,  Show  your  Passports  17 

"  to  the  wild  Indians,"  dominated  the  whole  establish- 
ment. In  this  determination  Chloe  was  steadily  up- 
held by  Ransom,  who  knew,  by  many  conflicts  from 
which  he  had  retreated  worsted,  that  it  was  idle  to  try 
to  dictate  to  her,  while  at  the  same  time  he  had  views 
as  decided  as  ever  on  the  inferiority  of  French  cookery 
to  that  of  New  England.  The  preparation  of  this 
master  breakfast  had  called  upon  Chloe  and  her 
allies  long  before  light.  Caesar  and  his  allies,  also 
preparing  for  a  voyage  which  would  take  them  from 
home  for  many  days,  were  as  early  and  as  noisy. 
The  only  wonder,  indeed,  was  that  the  girl,  who  was 
the  centre  of  the  idolatry  of  them  all,  or  her  aunt,  who 
was  hardly  less  a  favorite,  could  either  of  them  sleep 
a  wink,  in  the  neighborhood  of  such  clamors,  after 
midnight  passed.  When  they  did  meet  at  breakfast, 
they  found  the  table  lighted  with  bougies,  and  prepa- 
rations for  such  a  repast  as  if  the  governor  and  his 
staff,  the  commandant  with  his,  and  half  the  mer- 
chants of  Orleans,  had  been  invited.  Besides  Fran- 
cois and  Laurent,  who  were  in  regular  attendance  on 
the  table,  Ransom  was  hovering  round,  somewhat  as 
a  chief  butler  might  have  done  in  another  form  of 
luxurious  civilization. 

"Eat  a  bit  of  breast,  Miss  Inez?  and  here's  the 
second  j'int;  try  that.  Don't  know  nothin', —  nig- 
gers, —  but  I  see  to  this  myself.  Miss  Eunice,  them 
eggs  is  fresh:  took  'em  myself  from  four  different 
nests.  Niggers  don't  know  nothin'  about  eggs. 
Made  a  fire  in  the  barn  chamber,  and  biled  'em  right 
myself,  jest  as  your  father  likes  'em,  Miss  Inez.  Them 
others  is  as  hard  as  rocks." 


1 8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends , 

Inez  was  in  the  frolic  of  a  new  expedition  now ;  and 
the  traces  of  parting,  if  indeed  they  existed,  could  not 
be  discerned.  She  balanced  Ransom's  attentions 
against  the  equal  attention  of  the  two  boys,  pretended 
to  eat  from  more  dishes  and  to  drink  from  more 
cups  than  would  have  served  Cleopatra  for  a  month, 
amused  herself  in  urging  Aunt  Eunice  to  do  the  same, 
and  pretended  to  wrap  in  napkins,  for  the  "  smoking 
halt,"  the  viands  upon  which  her  aunt  would  not  try 
experiments.  The  meal,  on  the  whole,  was  not  un- 
satisfactory to  Aunt  Chloe's  pride,  to  Ransom's  pre- 
vision, or  to  the  public  opinion  of  the  household.  All 
who  were  left  behind  were,  in  private,  unanimous  on 
one  point,  —  namely,  that  Miss  Eunice  and  Miss  Inez 
were  both  to  be  roasted  alive  within  a  week  by  the 
Caddo  Indians ;  to  be  torn  limb  from  limb,  and  eaten, 
even  as  they  were  now  eating  the  spring  chickens  before 
them.  But  as  this  view  was  somewhat  discouraging, 
and  as  Aunt  Chloe,  after  having  once  solemnly  im- 
pressed it  upon  Eunice,  had  been  told  by  Silas  Perry 
that  she  should  be  locked  up  for  a  day  in  the  lock- 
house  if  she  ever  said  another  such  word  to  anybody, 
it  was  less  publicly  expressed  in  the  farewells  of  the 
morning,  though  not  held  any  the  less  implicitly. 

In  truth,  the  bougies  were  a  wholly  unnecessary 
elegance  or  precaution ;  for  the  noisy  party  did  not, 
in  fact,  get  under  way  till  the  sun  had  well  risen,  and 
every  sign  of  early  exhalation  had  passed  from  the 
river.  Such  had  been  Mr.  Perry's  private  orders  to 
his  sister;  and,  although  the  general  custom  of  a 
start  at  sunrise  was  too  well  fixed  to  be  broken  in 
upon  in  form,  Eunice  and  Ransom  had  no  lack  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  19 

methods  of  delaying  the  final  embarkation,  even  at  the 
risk  of  a  little  longer  pull  before  the  "  smoke." 

The  glory  of  the  morning,  as  seen  from  the  ele- 
vated quarter-deck,  was  a  new  delight  to  Inez.  She 
watched  at  first  for  a  handkerchief  or  some  other 
token  of  farewell  from  one  or  another  veranda  as  they 
passed  plantations  which  were  within  the  range  of  a 
ride  or  sail  from  her  own  home.  Afterward,  even  as 
the  settlement  became  rather  more  sparse,  there  was 
still  the  matchless  beauty  of  heavy  clumps  of  green, 
and  of  the  long  shadows  of  early  morning.  Even  in 
the  autumn  colors,  nothing  can  tame  the  richness  of 
the  foliage ;  and  the  contrast  rendered  by  patches  of 
ripening  sugar-cane  or  other  harvests  is  only  the 
more  striking  from  the  loyal  and  determined  verdure 
of  trees  which  will  not  change,  but  always  speak,  not 
of  spring,  but  of  perennial  summer. 

The  crew  felt  all  the  importance  of  the  expedition. 
Often  as  they  had  gone  down  the  river  with  one  or 
another  cargo  to  Orleans,  few  of  them  had  ever  voy- 
aged for  any  considerable  distance  up  the  stream. 
This  was  terra  incognita  into  which  they  were 
coming.  Not  but  they  had  heard  many  a  story, 
extravagant  enough  too,  of  the  marvels  of  the  river, 
from  one  or  another  flat-boatman  who  had  availed 
himself  of  the  hospitalities  of  the  plantation  for  his 
last  night  before  arriving  at  the  city.  But  these 
stories  were  not  very  consistent  with  each  other;  and, 
while  the  negroes  half  believed  them,  they  half  dis- 
believed at  the  same  time.  To  go  bodily  into  the 
presence  of  these  unknown  marvels  was  an  experi- 
ence wholly  unexpected  by  each  of  them.  Even 


20  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

Caesar  the  old  cook,  Sancho,  and  Paul  the  bosman, 
were  shaken  from  their  balance  or  propriety  by  an 
adventure  so  strange;  and  the  preparations  they  had 
made  for  the  voyage,  and  the  orders  they  had  given 
to  the  men  who  were  to  leave  home  for  a  period  so 
unusual,  all  showed  that  they  regarded  this  event  as 
by  far  the  most  important  of  their  lives. 

All  the  same  the  bosman  gave  out  a  familiar  and 
sonorous  song,  and  all  the  same  the  rowers  joined 
heartily  in  the  words.  And  when  he  cunningly  in- 
serted some  new  words,  with  an  allusion  to  the 
adventures  before  them,  and  to  the  treasures  of  silver 
which  all  parties  would  bring  back  from  the  Caddo 
mines,  a  guffaw  of  satisfaction  showed  that  all  parties 
were  well  pleased.  And  the  readiness  with  which  they 
caught  up  such  of  the  words  as  came  into  the  refrain 
showed  that  they  were  in  no  sort  dispirited,  either  by 
the  fatigue  or  the  danger  of  the  undertaking  before 
them. 

The  song  was  in  the  crudest  French  dialect  used 
by  the  plantation  slaves.  The  air  was  that  of  a  little 
German  marching  song,  which  the  quick-eared 
negroes  had  caught  from  German  neighbors  on  the 
coast;  old  veterans  of  Frederick's,  very  likely.  In 
the  more  polished  rendering  into  which  Inez  and  her 
aunt  reduced  it,  before  their  long  voyage  was  over, 
still  crude  enough  to  give  some  idea  of  the  simplicity 
of  the  original,  it  reappeared  in  these  words: — 

"  Darkeys,  make  this  dug-out  hurry ;  Tirez. 
Boys  behind,  begin  to  row ;  Tirez. 
And  don't  let  misses  have  to  worry : 
Missis  have  to  worry  when  the  light  of  day  is  gone  ;  Tirez. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  21 

"  Lazy  dogs  there  behind,  are  your  paddles  all  broke  ? 
Lazy  dogs  there  before,  have  you  all  lost  the  stroke  ? 
Farewell !     Farewell !     Farewell  —  farewell, 
Farewell !     Dear  girl !     Farewell  —  farewell. 

"Up  the  Mississippi  River;   Tirez. 
Caddoes  have  a  silver-mine ;  Tirez. 
My  sweetheart  takes  to  all  I  give  her, 
All  that  I  can  give  her  when  my  misses  is  come  home ;  Tirez. 

" Lazy  dogs  there  behind,  are  your  paddles  all  broke? 
Lazy  dogs  there  before,  have  you  all  lost  the  stroke? 
Farewell !     Farewell !     Farewell  —  farewell, 
Farewell !     Dear  girl !     Farewell  —  farewell."  1 

It  will  not  do,  however,  to  describe  the  detail  from 
day  to  day,  even  of  adventures  so  new  to  Inez  and  all 
her  companions  as  were  these.  For  a  day  or  two  the 
arrangements  which  Mr.  Perry  had  made  were  such, 
that  they  made  harbor  for  each  night  with  some  out- 
lying frontiersman's  family.  The  only  adventure  which 
startled  them  took  place  one  morning  after  they  were 
a  little  wonted  to  their  voyage  in  the  wilderness. 

By  the  laws  of  all  river  craft,  the  hands  were  entitled 
every  day,  at  the  end  of  two  hours,  to  a  rest,  if  only 
to  take  breath.  Everybody  lighted  a  pipe,  and  the 
rest  was  called  the  "  smoking-halt."  The  boat  was 
run  up  to  the  shore ;  and  the  ladies  would  walk  along 
a  little  way,  ordering  the  boatmen  to  take  them  up 
when  they  should  overtake  them. 

Inez  had,  one  morning,  already  collected  a  brilliant 
bouquet,  when,  at  a  turning  of  the  river,  she  came  out 
on  an  unexpected  encampment.  A  cloud  of  smoke 
rose  from  a  smouldering  fire,  a  dozen  Indian  children 

1  Readers  who  find  themselves  on  some  placid  lake,  river,  or  bayou 


22 


Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 


were  chasing  each  other  to  and  fro  in  the  shrubbery, 
the  mothers  of  some  of  them  were  at  work  by  the 
fire,  and  the  men  of  the  party  were  lounging  upon 
the  grass.  Four  or  five  good-sized  canoes  drawn  up 
upon  the  shore  showed  where  the  whole  party  had 
come  from :  each  canoe  bore  at  the  head  a  stag's 
head  fixed  on  a  pronged  stick,  as  a  sort  of  banner, 
whether  of  triumph  or  of  festivity. 

in  an  autumn  day,  should  autumn  ever  come  again,  may  like  to  intwine 
the  words  of  the  song  in  the  meshes  of  the  German  air.  Here  it  is :  — 


a=j+imij  re 


]  fylr    r~H    ^ff^~m-~ 

J— *Snl      r  ' 1 1     J.7^T^r 


or,  Show  your  Passports  23 

Inez  and  Eunice  had  so  often  welcomed  such  par- 
ties at  the  plantation,  that  neither  of  them  showed 
any  alarm  or  anxiety  when  they  came  so  suddenly 
out  upon  the  little  encampment.  But  Inez  did  have 
a  chance  to  say,  "  Dear  old  Chloe !  she  is  a  true 
prophet  so  soon.  There  are  the  fires,  and  here  are 
we.  Dear  aunty,  pray  take  the  first  turn."  Both  of 
them,  very  likely,  would  have  been  glad  enough  to 
avoid  the  rencontre  ;  but  as  they  were  in  for  it,  and 
had  no  near  base  to  retreat  upon,  they  advanced  as 
if  cordially,  and  greeted  the  nearest  woman  with  a 
smile  and  a  few  words  of  courtesy. 

In  a  minute  the  half-naked  children  had  gathered 
in  three  little  groups,  the  smaller  hiding  behind  the 
larger,  and  all  staring  at  the  ladies  with  a  curiosity  so 
fresh  and  undisguised  that  it  seemed  certain  they 
had  never  seen  such  people,  or  at  the  least  such  cos- 
tumes, before.  It  was  clear  enough  in  a  minute  more 
that  the  Indian  women  did  not  understand  a  syllable  of 
the  words  which  their  fairer  sisters  addressed  to  them. 
One  or  two  of  the  men  rose  from  the  ground,  and 
joined  in  the  interview,  but  with  little  satisfaction  as 
far  as  any  interchange  of  ideas  went.  Both  parties, 
however,  showed  a  friendly  spirit.  The  Indian  women 
went  so  far  as  to  offer  broiled  fish  and  fresh  grapes 
to  the  ladies.  These  declined  the  hospitality;  but 
Inez,  taking  from  her  neck  a  little  scarlet  scarf,  beck- 
oned to  her  the  prettiest  child  in  the  group  nearest 
to  her,  and  tied  it  round  the  girl's  neck.  The  little 
savage  was  pleased  beyond  words  with  the  adornment, 
slipped  from  her  grasp,  and  ran  with  absurd  vanity  from 
one  group  to  another  to  show  off  her  new  acquisition 


24  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

"  What  would  my  dear  Madame  Faustine  say,  if 
she  knew  that  her  dearly  beloved  scarf  was  so  soon 
adorning  the  neck  of  a  dirty  savage?  " 

"  She  would  say,  if  she  were  not  a  goose,"  said 
Eunice,  "  that  you  will  have  the  whole  tribe  on  you 
for  scarfs  now ;  and,  as  you  have  not  thirty,  that  you 
have  parted  with  your  pretty  scarf  for  nothing." 

Sure  enough,  every  little  brat  of  the  half-naked 
company  came  around  them,  to  try  the  natural  lan- 
guages of  beggary.  Inez  laughed  heartily  enough,  but 
shook  her  head,  and  tried  if  they  would  not  under- 
stand "  No,  no,  no !  "  if  she  only  said  it  fast  enough. 

"  We  can  do  better  than  that,"  said  Eunice.  "  We 
may  as  well  make  a  treaty  with  them,  as  you  have 
begun.  We  will  wait  here  for  the  boat.  I  am  horri- 
bly afraid  of  them ;  but,  if  we  pretend  not  to  be  fright- 
ened, that  will  be  next  best  to  meeting  nobody  at  all." 

So  she  patted  two  dirty  little  brats  upon  the  cheeks, 
took  another  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  to  the  shade 
of  a  China-tree  which  grew  near  the  levee,  and  there 
sat  down. 

The  children  thought,  perhaps,  that  they  were  to 
be  roasted  and  eaten ;  for  the  tales  of  the  Attakapas, 
or  man-eaters  of  the  coast,  travelled  west  as  well  as 
east.  But  they  showed  all  the  aplomb  of  their  race 
and,  if  they  were  to  be  eaten,  meant  to  be  eaten  with- 
out groaning.  In  a  moment  more,  however,  they 
had  forgotten  their  fears. 

Eunice  had  torn  from  the  book  she  held  in  her 
hand  the  blank  leaf  at  the  end.  She  folded  a  strip 
of  the  paper  six  or  eight  times,  and  then  with  her 
pocket-scissors  cut  out  the  figure  of  a  leaping  Indian. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  25 

The  feathers  in  his  head-dress  were,  as  she  said  to 
Inez,  quite  expressive;  and  his  posture  was  savage 
enough  for  the  reddest.  The  children  watched  her 
with  amazement,  the  group  enlarging  itself  from 
moment  to  moment.  So  soon  as  the  leaping  savage 
was  completed,  Eunice  unfolded  the  paper,  and  of 
course  produced  eight  leaping  savages,  who  held 
each  other  by  the  hands.  These  she  brought  round 
into  a  ring,  and  by  a  stitch  fastened  the  outer  hands 
together.  She  placed  the  ring  of  dancers,  thus  easily 
made,  upon  her  book,  and  then  made  them  slide  up 
and  down  upon  the  cover. 

The  reticence  of  these  babes  of  the  woods  was 
completely  broken.  They  shouted  and  sang  in  their 
delight;  and  even  their  phlegmatic  fathers  and 
mothers  were  obliged  to  draw  near. 

Eunice  followed  up  her  advantage.  This  time  her 
ready  scissors  cut  out  a  deer,  with  his  nose  down ; 
and,  as  the  paper  was  unfolded,  two  deer  were  smell- 
ing at  the  same  root  in  the  ground.  Rings  of  horses, 
groups  of  buffaloes,  rabbits,  antelopes,  and  other 
marvels  followed ;  and  the  whole  company  was  spell- 
bound, and,  indeed,  would  have  remained  so  as  long 
as  Eunice  continued  her  magic  creations,  when  Inez 
whispered  to  her,  — 

"  I  see  the  boat  coming." 

Eunice  made  no  sign  of  the  satisfaction  she  felt, 
but  bade  Inez  walk  quietly  to  the  bend  of  the  stream, 
and  wave  her  handkerchief;  and  the  girl  did  so. 

Eunice  quietly  finished  the  group  which  engaged 
her,  and  then,  singling  out  the  youngest  of  the  girls, 
with  a  pointed  gesture  gave  one  of  the  much-coveted 


26  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

marvels  to  each  of  them,  flung  away  the  scraps  of  cut 
paper  from  her  lap,  and  sprang  quickly  to  her  feet. 

The  flying  bits  of  paper  were  quite  enough  to 
arrest  the  attention  of  the  warriors,  and  they  scat- 
tered in  eager  pursuit  of  them. 

A  minute  more  and  the  boat  was  at  the  rudiment 
of  a  levee  which  had  already  begun  to  form  itself. 
The  girls  sprang  on  board  again,  not  sorry  to  regain 
the  protection  of  their  party ;  and  Eunice  inwardly 
resolved  to  run  no  more  such  risks  while  she  was 
commander  of  the  expedition. 

"  Would  n't  have  dared  to  do  nothin',"  said  old 
Ransom,  concealing  by  a  square  lie  his  own  anxiety 
at  the  rencontre.  "  They 's  all  cowards  and  liars,  them 
redskins  be;  but  if  you  go  walkin'  ag'in,  Miss  Eunice, 
better  call  me  to  go  with  you :  they 's  all  afraid  of  a 
white  man." 

"  Ah,  well,  Ransom,  they  were  very  civil  to  us 
to-day;  and  I  believe  I  have  made  forty  friends  at 
the  cost  of  a  little  white  paper." 

None  the  less  was  Eunice  mortified  and  annoyed 
that  she  should  have  had  a  fright —  for  a  fright  it  was 
—  so  early  in  their  enterprise.  It  had  been  arranged 
with  care,  that  at  night  they  should  tarry  at  planta- 
tions, while  plantations  lasted  ;  but  from  Point  Coupee 
to  Natchitoches,  where  they  were  to  join  Captain 
Nolan's  party,  was  fifty-five  leagues,  which,  at  the 
best  the  "  patron  "  could  do,  would  cost  them  six  or 
seven  days ;  and  she  did  not  hope  for  even  a  log- 
cabin  on  the  way  for  all  that  distance.  And  now, 
even  before  that  weakest  spot  in  their  line,  she  had 
walked  into  a  camp  of  these  red  rascals,  who  would 


or,  Show  your  Passports  27 

have  made  no  scruple  of  stripping  from  them  all  that 
they  carried  or  wore. 

"  All 's  well  that  ends  well,  aunty,"  said  Inez,  as 
she  saw  her  aunt's  anxiety. 

But  none  the  less  did  Eunice  feel  that  anxiety. 
Ransom,  she  saw,  felt  it;  and  the  good  fellow  was, 
not  more  careful,  but  ten  times  more  eager  to  show 
that  he  was  careful,  at  every  encampment.  The 
patron,  who  was  wholly  competent  to  the  charge 
given  him,  with  the  utmost  respect  and  deference 
vied  with  Ransom  in  his  arrangements.  From  this 
moment  forward  the  ladies  were  watched  with  a  sur- 
veillance which  would  have  made  Eunice  angry  had 
she  not  seen  that  it  was  meant  so  kindly. 

This  caution  and  assiduity  were  not  without  their 
effect  upon  her.  But  all  the  same,  her  relief  was 
infinite,  when  on  the  night  when  they  hauled  up, 
rather  later  than  usual,  below  the  rapids  of  the 
Red  River,  she  was  surprised  by  hearing  her  own 
name  in  a  friendly  voice,  and  Captain  Nolan  sprang 
on  board. 

He  had  met  them  two  or  three  days  earlier  than  he 
expected. 

CHAPTER  III 

PHILIP   NOLAN 
"  Bid  them  stand  in  the  king's  name." 

To  Philip  Nolan  and  his  companions  is  due  that 
impression  of  American  courage  and  resource  which 
for  nearly  half  a  century  impressed  the  Spanish  oc- 


28  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

cupants  of  Texas,  until,  in  the  year  1848,  they  finally 
surrendered  this  beautiful  region,  however  unwill- 
ingly, to  the  American  arms  and  arts. 

For  ten  years  before  the  period  of  this  story, 
scarcely  any  person  had  filled  a  place  more  dis- 
tinguished among  the  American  voyagers  on  the 
Mississippi,  or  the  American  settlers  on  its  eastern 
banks,  than  had  PHILIP  NOLAN. 

His  reputation  was  founded  first  on  his  athletic 
ability,  highly  esteemed  among  an  athletic  race.  He 
had  had  intimate  relations  with  the  Spanish  gover- 
nors of  Louisiana;  but  no  one  doubted  his  loyalty  to 
his  native  land.  He  understood  the  Indians  thor- 
oughly, as  the  reader  will  have  occasion  to  see.  He 
had  a  passion  for  the  wilderness,  and  for  the  life  of 
the  forest  and  prairie;  but  he  was  well  educated, 
whether  for  commerce  or  for  command ;  and  Spanish 
governors,  Orleans  merchants,  and  American  gen- 
erals and  secretaries  of  state,  alike  were  glad  to 
advise  with  him,  and  profited  by  his  rare  information 
of  the  various  affairs  intrusted  to  their  care,  —  in- 
formation which  he  had  gained  by  personal  inspection 
and  inquiry. 

Once  and  again  had  Philip  Nolan,  fortified  by 
official  safeguards,  crossed  into  Texas,  hunted  wild 
horses  there,  and  brought  them  back  into  the  neigh- 
borhood of  New  Orleans,  or  the  American  settlements 
of  the  Mississippi,  to  a  good  market.  A  perfect 
judge  of  horses,  an  enthusiastic  lover  of  them,  he 
was  more  pleased  with  such  adventure  than  with 
what  he  thought  the  humdrum  lines  of  trade.  His 
early  training,  indeed,  had  been  so  far  that  of  a 


or,  Show  your  Passports  29 

soldier,  that  he  was  always  hoping  for  a  campaign. 
With  every  new  breath  of  a  quarrel  between  the 
United  States  and  Spain,  he  hoped  that  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  weak  spots  in  the  Spanish  rule  might 
prove  of  service  to  his  own  country.  Indeed,  if  the 
whole  truth  could  be  told,  it  would  probably  appear 
that,  for  the  last  year  or  two  before  the  reader  meets 
him,  Nolan  had  been  lying  on  his  oars,  or  looking 
around  him,  waiting  for  the  hoped-for  war  which,  as 
he  believed,  would  sweep  the  forces  of  the  King  of 
Spain  out  from  this  magnificent  country,  which  they 
held  to  such  little  purpose.  Disappointed  in  such 
hopes,  he  had  now  undertaken,  for  the  third  time, 
an  expedition  to  collect  horses  in  Texas  for  sale  on 
the  Mississippi.1 

Silas  Perry  knew  Nolan  so  well,  and  placed  in  him 
confidence  so  unlimited,  that  he  had  with  little  hesi- 
tation accepted  the  offer  of  his  escort  made  first  in 
jest,  but  renewed  in  utter  earnest,  as  soon  as  the 
handsome  young  adventurer  found  that  his  old  friend 
looked  upon  it  seriously  Nolan  had  represented 
that  he  had  a  party  large  enough  to  secure  the  ladies 
from  Indians  or  from  stragglers.  The  ways  were 
perfectly  familiar  to  him,  and  to  more  than  one  of 

1  The  writer  of  this  tale,  by  an  oversight  which  he  regrets,  and  has 
long  regretted,  spoke  of  this  venturous  and  brave  young  Kentuckian 
as  Stephen  Nolan  in  a  story  published  in  1863.  The  author  had 
created  an  imaginary  and  mythical  brother  of  Nolan's,  to  whom  he 
gave  the  name  of  Philip  Nolan,  and  to  whom  he  gave  a  place  in  the 
army  of  the  United  States.  Ever  since  he  discovered  his  mistake,  he 
has  determined  to  try  to  give  to  the  true  Philip  Nolan  such  honors 
as  he  could  pay  to  a  name  to  which  this  young  man  gave  true  honor. 
With  this  wish  he  attempts  the  little  narrative  of  his  life,  which 
forms  a  part  of  this  story. 


30  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

those  with  him.  Their  business  itself  would  take 
them  very  near  to  San  Antonio,  if  not  quite  there; 
and,  without  the  slightest  difficulty,  he  could  and 
would  see  that  the  ladies  were  safely  confided  to 
Major  Barelo's  care. 

So  soon  as  this  proposal  had  been  definitely  stated, 
it  met  with  the  entire  approval  of  Miss  Inez.  This 
needs  scarcely  be  said.  To  a  young  lady  of  her  age, 
three  hundred  miles  of  riding  on  horseback  seems 
three  hundred  times  as  charming  as  one  mile;  and 
even  one,  with  a  good  horse  and  a  good  cavalier,  is 
simply  perfection.  All  the  votes  Miss  Inez  could  give 
from  the  beginning  were  given  in  plumpers  for  the  plan. 

Nor  had  it  met  the  objection  which  might  have 
been  expected  from  the  more  sedate  and  venerable 
Miss  Eunice.  It  is  true,  this  lady  was  more  than 
twice  Inez's  age ;  but  even  at  thirty-five  one  is  not  a 
pillar  of  salt,  nor  wholly  indisposed  to  adventure. 
Eunice's  watchful  eye  also  had  observed  many  rea- 
sons, some  physical  and  some  more  subtle,  why  it 
would  be  for  the  advantage  of  Inez  to  be  long  absent 
from  Orleans.  Perhaps  she  would  have  shed  no 
tears  had  she  been  told  that  the  girl  should  never 
see  that  town  again.  So  long  as  she  was  a  child,  it 
had  not  been  difficult  to  arrange  that  the  society  she 
kept  should  be  only  among  children  whose  language, 
thought,  and  habit  would  not  hurt  her.  But  Inez 
was  a  woman  now,  —  a  very  lovely,  simple,  pure,  and 
conscientious  woman,  it  was  true ;  but,  for  all  that, 
Eunice  was  not  more  inclined  to  see  the  girl  exposed 
to  the  follies  and  extravagances  of  the  exaggerated 
French  or  Spanish  life  of  the  little  colony,  especially 


or,  Show  your  Passports  31 

while  her  father  was  in  Europe.  And  Eunice  was 
afraid,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  life,  only  too  lux- 
urious, which  they  led  in  the  city  and  on  the  plan- 
tation, did  not  strengthen  the  girl,  as  she  would  fain 
have  her  strengthened,  against  the  constitutional 
weakness  which  had  brought  her  mother  to  an  early 
grave.  Eunice  saw  no  reason  why,  at  sixteen  years 
of  age,  Inez  should  not  lead  a  life  as  simple,  as  much 
exposed  to  the  open  climate,  and  as  dependent  on 
her  own  resources,  as  she  herself,  with  the  advantages 
and  disadvantages  of  Squam  Bay,  had  led  when  she 
was  a  girl  just  beginning  to  be  a  woman. 

Eunice  Perry  and  Philip  Nolan  were  almost  of  the 
same  age ;  and  those  who  knew  them  both,  and  who 
saw  how  intimate  the  handsome  young  Kentuckian 
was  in  the  comfortable  New  England  household  of 
Silas  Perry,  whether  in  the  town  house  or  plantation 
house,  were  forever  gossiping  and  wondering,  were 
saying  now  that  he  was  in  love  with  Eunice,  now  that 
she  was  in  love  with  him;  now  that  they  were  to  be 
married  at  Easter,  and  now  that  the  match  was 
broken  off  at  Michaelmas. 

From  the  time  when  he  first  appeared  in  Orleans, 
almost  a  boy,  with  the  verdure  of  his  native  village 
still  clinging  to  him,  but  none  the  less  cheerful,  manly, 
courageous,  enterprising,  and  handsome,  he  had 
found  a  friend  in  Silas  Perry;  and  the  office  of  the 
New  England  merchant  was  one  of  the  first  places  to 
which  he  would  have  gone  for  counsel.  It  was  not 
long  before  the  shrewd  and  hearty  New  Englander, 
who  knew  men,  and  knew  what  men  to  trust,  began 
to  take  the  youngster  home  with  him.  Those  were 


32  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

in  the  days  when  Inez  was  in  her  cradle,  and  when 
Eunice  was  a  stranger  in  Louisiana. 

Silas  Perry  had  been  Philip  Nolan's  counsellor,  em- 
ployer, and  friend.  Philip  Nolan  had  been  Silas 
Perry's  pupil,  agent,  messenger,  and  friend.  Eunice 
Perry  had  been  Philip  Nolan's  frequent  companion, 
his  more  frequent  confidante,  and  most  frequently  his 
friend ;  and,  as  such  friendship  had  been  tested,  there 
were  a  thousand  good  offices  which  she  had  asked  of 
him,  and  never  asked  in  vain.  An  intimacy  so  sincere 
as  this,  the  growth  of  years  of  confidence,  made  it 
natural  to  all  parties  that  Eunice  and  Inez  should 
undertake  their  journey  under  the  escort  of  this  sol- 
dier who  was  not  quite  a  merchant,  and  this  merchant 
who  was  not  quite  a  soldier,  —  Philip  Nolan. 

"  But  you  are  all  alone,  Captain  Phil,"  said  Inez,  ex- 
pressing in  the  very  frankest  way  the  pleasure  which 
the  meeting,  hardly  expected,  with  her  old  friend 
afforded  her.  "  Where  is  our  army?" 

"  Our  army  has  gone  in  advance,  to  free  the 
prairies  ©f  any  marauding  throngs  who  might  press 
too  close  on  the  princess  who  deigns  to  visit  them." 

"  Which  means,  being  interpreted,  I  suppose,  that 
the  army  is  buying  corn  at  Natchitoches,"  said  Eunice. 

"Yes.  and  no,"  said  he,  a  little  gravely,  as  she 
fancied.  "  We  shall  find  them  near  Natchitoches  if 
we  do  not  find  them  this  side.  I  must  talk  with  my 
friend  the  patron,  and  see  if  I  can  persuade  him  to 
give  up  your  luxurious  boat  for  one  that  I  have 
chartered  above  the  rapids.  I  have  not  much  faith 
that  the  '  Donna  Maria/  or  the  '  Dolores/  or  the  '  Sea 
Gull/ — which  name  has  she  to-day,  Miss  Inez?  — 


or,  Show  your  Passports  33 

that  this  sumptuous  frigate  of  ours  can  be  got  through 
the  rapids  so  easily  as  we  thought  at  your  father's. 
But  I  have  what  is  really  a  very  tidy  boat  above ;  and, 
before  you  ladies  are  awake  in  the  morning,  we  will 
see  if  you  are  to  change  your  quarters." 

"  And  must  I  leave  thee,  my  Martha?  "  cried  Inez 
in  a  voice  of  mock  tragedy.  "  Captain  Nolan,  she  is 
the  '  Martha/  named  after  the  wife  of  the  Father  of  his 
Country.  In  leaving  the  proud  banner  of  Spain,  under 
which  I  was  born,  to  pass,  though  only  for  a  few 
happy  hours,  under  the  stars  and  stripes,  accompanied 
by  this  noble  friend  whom  I  see  I  need  not  present  to 
you,  —  Miss  Perry,  General  Nolan ;  a  lady  of  the  very 
highest  rank  of  the  New  England  nobility,  —  accom- 
panied, I  say,  by  an  American  lady  of  such  distinc- 
tion, I  ordered  the  steersman  of  my  bark  to  keep 
always  in  the  eastern  side  of  the  river,  in  that  short 
but  blessed  interval  before  we  entered  this  redder  but 
more  Spanish  stream." 

The  young  American  of  1876  must  remember  that 
in  1800  both  the  east  and  west  sides  of  the  Mississippi 
were  Spanish  territory,  up  to  the  southern  line  of  our 
present  State  of  that  name.  Above  that  point,  the 
eastern  half  of  the  river  was  "  American,"  the  western 
half  was  Spanish.  For  a  few  miles  before  the  boat 
had  come  into  the  Red  River,  she  had  in  fact  been 
floating,  as  Inez  thought,  in  American  waters ;  and 
the  girl  had  made  more  than  one  chance  to  land  on 
American  soil,  though  it  was  the  mud  of  a  canebrake, 
for  the  first  time  of  her  life.  All  parties  had  joined 
in  her  enthusiasm ;  and  they  had  fixed  a  bivouac  on 
this  little  stretch  of  her  father's  land.  So  soon  as 

3 


34  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

they  entered  the  Red  River,  they  were  under  Spanish 
jurisdiction  once  more. 

Nolan  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  girl's  banter; 
and  they  knew  very  well  that  it  was  not  all  fun. 

"  What  a  pity  that  your  ladyship  could  not  have 
come  to  Fort  Adams,  or  to  Natchez,1  to  begin  with 
us  !  "  he  said. 

Natchez,  then  a  village  of  six  hundred  inhabitants, 
was  the  southernmost  town  in  the  United  States.  It 
was  Nolan's  own  headquarters,  and  from  there  his 
expedition  had  started. 

"  Your  grace  should  have  seen  the  stars  and  stripes 
flying  from  the  highest  flagstaff  in  the  West.  I  should 
have  been  honored  by  the  presence  of  your  high- 
nesses at  my  humble  quarters.  Indeed,  my  friend  the 
major-general  commanding  at  Fort  Adams  would 
have  saluted  your  royal  highnesses'  arrival  by  a  salvo 
of  sixteen  guns;  and,  the  moment  your  majesty 
entered  the  works  of  that  fortress,  every,  heart  would 
have  been  yours,  as  every  recruit  presented  arms.  A 
great  pity,  Miss  Inez,  you  had  not  come  up  to 
Natchez.  But  what  does  my  friend  Ransom  think  of 
all  this  voyaging?  " 

Inez  called  him. 

"  Ransom  !  Captain  Nolan  wants  to  know  how  you 
liked  coming  back  into  your  own  country." 

"Evenin',  captain." 

This  was  Ransom's  only  reply  to  the  cordial  salu- 

1  The  reader  must  note  that  Natchez  on  the  Mississippi,  Natchi- 
toches  on  the  Red  River,  and  Nacogdoches  on  the  Angelina  River,  are 
three  different  towns.  The  names  seem  to  have  been  derived  from 
the  same  roots. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  35 

tation  of  the  young  Kentuckian,  who  was,  however, 
one  of  Ransom's  very  few  favorites. 

"  Miss  Inez  says  you  spent  Monday  night  in  the 
United  States." 

"  Patron  says  so  too,"  replied  the  sententious  Ran- 
som. "  Don't  know  nothin'.  Much  as  ever  can 
make  them  niggers  pull  the  boat  along.  Wanted  to 
walk  myself:  could  walk  faster  than  all  on  'em  can 
row,  put  together.  Told  the  patron  so.  We  slept  in 
a  canebrake;  wust  canebrake  we  see  since  we  left 
home.  Patron  said  it  was  Ameriky.1  Patron  don't 
know  nothin'.  Ain't  no  canebrakes  in  Ameriky." 

"  There  's  something  amazingly  like  them  for  the 
first  thousand  or  two  miles  of  Miss  Inez's  journey 
there,"  said  Nolan,  laughing.  "  Anyway,  I  'm  glad  the 
alligators  did  not  eat  her  up,  and  you  too,  Ransom." 

"  They  'd  like  to.  Did  n't  give  'em  no  chance,"  re- 
plied the  old  man,  with  a  beaming  expression  on  his 
countenance.  "Loaded  the  old  double-barrel  with 
two  charges  of  buckshot,  sot  up  myself  outside  her 
tent.  Darned  critters  knew  it  'zwell  as  I  did  ;  did  n't 
dare  come  nigh  her  all  night  long.  They  'd  like  to." 

"  You  should  have  given  them  pepper,  Ransom. 
Throw  a  little  red  pepper  on  the  water,  and  it  makes 
the  bull  alligators  sneeze.  That  frightens  all  the 
others,  and  they  go  twenty  miles  off  before  morning." 

Inez  was  laughing  herself  to  death  by  this  time, 
but  checked  herself  in  time  to  ask  whether  she  might 
not  fly  the  stars  and  stripes  on  the  "  Lady  Martha." 

"  What 's  the  use  of  calling  her  the  '  Lady  Martha ' 

1  The  use  of  the  words,  "  America "  for  the  United  States,  and 
"  Americans "  for  their  people,  was  universal  among  the  Spaniards 
even  at  this  early  day. 


36  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

only  for  these  four  or  five  miles?  And  my  dear  silk 
flag :  is  it  not  a  beauty,  Captain  Nolan  ?  I  made  it 
with  my  own  fair  hands.  And  if  you  knew  how  to  sew, 
Captain  Nolan,  you  would  know  how  hard  it  is  to  sew 
stars  into  blue  silk,  —  silk  stars  too.  I  never  should 
have  done  it  but  for  Sister  F^licie :  she  helped  me 
out  of  hours ;  and  I  wish  I  did  not  think  she  was 
doing  penance  now.  But  is  it  not  a  beauty?  Look 
at  it !  "  and  she  flung  her  pretty  flag  open  over  her 
knees  and  Eunice's.  "  All  your  stripes,  you  see,  with 
the  white  on  the  outside,  as  you  taught  me.  And  I 
did  not  faint  nor  shirk  for  one  star,  though  mortal 
strength  did  tire,  and  Sister  Felicie  did  have  to  help ; 
but  there  are  all  the  sixteen  there.  That  one  with 
the  little  blood-spot  on  it  is  Vermont :  I  pricked  my 
finger  horridly  for  Vermont;  and  that  is  your  dear 
Kentucky,  captain ;  and  that  is  Tennessee. " 

Nolan  bowed,  and,  this  time  with  no  mock  feeling, 
kissed  the  star  which  the  girl  pointed  out  for  his  own 
State. 

"  May  I  not  fly  it  to-morrow  morning?  Was  it 
only  made  for  that  little  sail  through  the  cane- 
brakes?" 

Nolan's  face  clouded  a  little,  —  a  little  more  than 
he  meant  it  should. 

"  Just  here,  and  just  now,"  he  said,  "  I  think  we 
had  better  not  show  it.  Not  that  I  suppose  we  should 
meet  anybody  who  would  care ;  but  they  are  as  stupid 
as  owrls,  and  as  much  frightened  as  rabbits.  It  was 
only  that  very  same  Monday  that  we  met  a  whole 
company  of  Greasers  (that  is  what  my  men  called 
them)  ;  and  we  had  to  show  our  passports." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  37 

Inez  asked  him  what  he  showed;  and  with  quite 
unnecessary  precision,  —  precision  which  did  not 
escape  Eunice's  quiet  observation,  —  he  told  her  that 
he  had,  for  his  whole  party,  Governor  Pedro  de  Nava's 
pass  to  Texas  and  to  return ;  that  he  even  had  private 
letters  from  Governor  Casa  Calvo  to  Cordero,  the 
general  in  command  at  the  Alamo.  Eunice  said  that 
the  marquis  had  been  only  too  courteous  in  providing 
her  also  with  a  passport  for  their  whole  party;  he 
would  have  sent  an  escort,  had  his  friend  Mr.  Perry 
suggested.  "  Indeed,  the  whole  army  was  at  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Donna  Eunice,  as  he  tried  to  say,  and 
would  have  said,  had  my  poor  name  been  possible  to 
Spanish  lips.  Why,  Captain  Nolan,  I  have  sealing-wax 
enough  and  parchment  enough  for  a  king's  ransom, 
if  your  papers  were  not  enough  for  us/1 

"  My  good  right  arm  shall  write  my  pass,  in  answer 
to  my  prayers,"  said  Nolan  a  little  grimly.  "  Is  not 
there  some  such  line  as  that  in  your  father's  Chapman, 
Miss  Inez?"  And  he  bade  them  good-night,  as  he 
went  to  seek  his  quarters  in  the  wretched  cabin  by 
the  very  roar  of  the  rapids,  and  intimated  to  the 
ladies  that  they  had  best  spread  their  mattresses,  and 
be  ready  for  an  early  start  in  the  morning. 

In  truth,  Nolan  was  geographer  enough  to  know 
that  the  ladies  had  perhaps  shown  their  flag  a  little 
too  early;  but  he  would  not  abate  a  whit  of  the 
girl's  enthusiasm  for  what,  as  he  said,  and  as  she  said, 
should  have  been  her  native  land.  Even  the  novel- 
reader  of  to-day  reads  with  an  atlas  of  maps  at  his 
side,  and  expects  geographical  accuracy  even  from 
the  Princess  Scheherezade  herself.  The  reader  will 


38  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

understand  the  precise  position,  by  examining  the 
little  map  below,  which  is  traced  from  an  official 
report  of  that  time. 


The  western  boundary  of  the  United  States  was 
the  middle  of  the  Mississippi  River.  The  southern 
boundary  was  the  line  of  31°.  The  girls  knew,  as 
everybody  knew,  where  that  line  crossed  the  river  at 
different  points.  Was  the  little  projection  opposite 
the  Red  River  a  part  of  the  United  States,  or  of 
Florida?  Inez  and  Eunice  had  thought  they  were 
out  of  Spanish  dominion  there.  Perhaps  they  were. 
The  reader  can  judge  as  well  as  the  best  diplomatist. 
Wars  have  been  made  out  of  less  material.  The  sur- 
veyors who  ran  the  boundary  decided,  not  with  the 
ladies,  but  with  Nolan  and  Ransom.  Maps  of  that 
time  vary ;  and  the  river  has  since  abated  all  contro- 
versy, by  cutting  across  the  neck  of  swampy  land,  and 
making  the  little  peninsula  into  an  island. 

And  it  was  only  for  the  wretched  five  miles  of 
canebrake,  between  the  line  of  31°  and  the  mouth  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  39 

the  Red  River,  that  the  eager  Inez,  by  keeping  her 
boat  on  the  eastern  shore,  had  even  fancied  that  she 
saw  her  own  land,  and  was  for  once  breathing  what 
should  have  been  her  native  air.  As  the  boat  hauled 
into  the  Red  River,  she  had  hidden  her  head  in 
Eunice's  lap,  and  had  sobbed  out,  — 

"  This  poor  child  is  a  girl  without  a  country !  " 


CHAPTER  IV 

"  SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS  !  " 

14  The  pine-tree  dreameth  of  the  palm, 
The  palm-tree  of  the  pine." 

LORD  HOUGHTON. 

PHILIP  NOLAN  had  his  reasons  for  avoiding  long 
tarry  at  the  rapids;  and,  when  the  new  boat  came 
with  the  party  to  the  little  port  of  Natchitoches,  he 
had  the  same  reasons  for  urging  haste  in  the  transfer 
of  their  equipment  there.  These  reasons  he  had  un- 
folded to  Eunice,  and  they  were  serious. 

After  all  the  plans  had  been  made  for  this  autumn 
journey,  —  plans  which  involved  fatigue,  perhaps,  for 
the  ladies,  but  certainly  no  danger,  —  the  Spanish 
officials  of  Louisiana  on  the  cMie  side,  and  of  Texas  on 
the  other,  had  been  seized  by  one  of  their  periodical 
quaking-fits,  —  fits  of  easy  depression,  which  were 
more  and  more  frequent  with  every  year.  Nolan  had 
come  and  gone  once  and  again,  with  Spanish  pass- 
ports in  full  form,  from  the  governor  of  Louisiana. 
The  present  of  a  handsome  mustang  on  his  return 
would  not  be  declined  by  that  officer;  and,  as  the 


40  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

horse  grew  older,  he  would  not,  perhaps,  be  averse  to 
the  chances  of  another  expedition.  With  just  such 
free-conduct  was  Nolan  equipped  now ;  and  with  his 
party  of  thirteen  men  he  had  started  from  Natchez  on 
the  Mississippi,  to  take  up  Miss  Eunice  and  Miss  Inez 
with  their  party  atJNatchitoches^  the  frontier  station 
on  the  Red  River,  "just  before  starting,  however,  the 
Spanish  consul  at  Natchez  had  called  the  party  before 
Judge  Bruin,  the  United  States  judge  there,  as  if  they 
were  filibusters.  But  Nolan's  passport  from  Don 
Pedro  de  Nava,  the  commandant  of  the  northeastern 
provinces,  was  produced ;  and  the  judge  dismissed 
the  complaint.  This  had  been,  however,  only  the 
beginning  of  trouble.  Before  Nolan  joined  the  ladies, 
he  had  hardly  passed  the  Mississippi  swamp,  —  had, 
in  fact,  travelled  only  forty  miles, — when  he  met  a 
company  of  fifty  Spanish  soldiers,  who  had  been  sent 
out  to  stop  him.  Nolan's  party  numbered  but  twenty- 
one.  The  Spaniards  pretended  that  they  were  hunt- 
ing lost  horses ;  but,  so  soon  as  Nolan's  party  passed, 
they  had  turned  westward  also,  and  were  evidently 
dogging  them. 

It  was  this  unfriendly  feeling  on  the  part  of  those 
whom  he  was  approaching  as  a  friend,  which  had  led 
Nolan  to  hasten  his  meeting  with  Eunice  Perry  and 
her  niece,  that  he  might,  before  it  was  too  late,  ask 
them  whether  they  would  abandon  their  enterprise, 
and  return. 

But  Eunice  boldly  said  "  No."  Her  niece  was, 
alas  !  a  Spanish  woman  born ;  she  was  going  to  visit 
a  Spanish  officer  on  his  invitation.  If  she  had  to 
show  her  passports  every  day,  she  could  show  them. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  41 

If  Captain  Nolan  did  not  think  they  embarrassed  the 
party,  she  was  sure  that  she  would  go  on ;  if  he  did, 
why,  she  must  return,  though  unwillingly. 

"  Not  I,  indeed,  Miss  Eunice.  You  protect  us 
where  we  meant  to  protect  you.  Only  I  do  not  care 
to  cross  these  Dogberrys  more  often  than  I  can 
help/' 

So  it  was  determined  that  they  should  go  on, — 
but  go  on  without  the  little  halt  at  Natchitoches 
which  had  been  intended. 

Inez  shared  in  all  the  excitement  of  a  prompt  de- 
parture, the  moment  the  necessity  was  communicated 
to  her.  Before  sunrise  she  was  awake,  and  dressed 
in  the  prairie  dress  which  had  been  devised  for  her. 
The  four  packs  to  which  she  had  been  bidden  to 
confine  herself —  for  two  mules,  selected  and  ready 
at  L'ficore  —  had  been  packed  ever  since  they  left 
Orleans,  let  it  be  confessed,  by  old  Ransom's  agency, 
quite  as  much  as  by  any  tire-woman  of  her  train. 
She  was  only  too  impatient  while  old  Caesar,  the 
cook,  elaborated  the  last  river  breakfast.  She  could 
not  bear  to  have  Eunice  spend  so  much  time  in 
directions  to  the  patron,  and  farewells  to  the  boat- 
men, and  messages  to  their  wives.  When  it  actually 
came  to  the  spreading  a  plaster  which  Tony  was  to 
take  back  to  his  wife,  for  a  sprain  she  had  in  her 
shoulder,  Inez  fairly  walked  off  the  boat  in  her  cer- 
tainty that  she  should  be  cross,  even  to  Eunice,  if 
she  stayed  one  minute  longer. 

Old  Caesar,  at  the  last  moment,  blubbered  and 
broke  down.  "  Leave  Miss  Inez?"  not  he.  What 
a  pity  that  his  voluble  Guinea-French  is  not  translat- 


42  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

able  into  any  dialect  of  the  Anglo-American-Norman- 
Creole  tongue!  Leave  her?  not  he.  He  had  her 
in  his  arms  when  she  was  an  hour  old.  He  made 
her  first  doll  out  of  a  bulrush  and  some  raw  cotton. 
He  taught  her  to  suck  sugar-cane;  and  he  picked 
pecan-meats  for  her  before  her  mother  knew  that  she 
could  eat  them.  Should  he  leave  her  to  be  devoured 
alive  by  Caddo  Indians?  "  Jamais !  Imposible!" 

"  Come  along  with  us,  then,"  said  Nolan ;  and  he 
indicated  the  mule  which  Caesar  was  to  ride. 

And  Caesar  came ;  and  his  history  is  written  in 
with  that  of  Texas  for  the  next  ten  years. 

As  the  sun  rose,  the  party  gathered  in  front  of  the 
little  shanty  at  which  the  most  of  the  business  of  the 
landing  was  done.  Ransom  himself  lifted  Inez  upon 
her  saddle,  adjusted  the  stirrups  forty  times,  as  if  he 
had  not  himself  cut  the  holes  in  the  leathers,  just  as 
Inez  bade  him,  a  month  before.  Nolan  watched  for 
Eunice's  comfort  with  the  same  care.  Caesar  blub- 
bered and  bragged,  and  sent  messages  to  the  old 
woman,  —  messages  which,  if  she  ever  received  them, 
were  the  food  on  which  she  fed  for  the  next  decade 
of  married  life.  Nolan  was  not  displeased  with  the 
make-up  of  the  little  party.  They  were  but  eight  in 
all ;  but  there  was  not  a  bad  horse,  a  bad  mule,  a 
bad  man,  or  a  bad  woman,  in  the  train,  he  said. 
What  pleased  him  most  was  the  prompt  obedience 
of  the  women,  and  the  "  shifty  "  readiness  of  the  men. 
Old  Ransom  scolded  a  good  deal,  but  was  in  the 
right  place  at  the  right  time.  And  so,  avoiding  the 
village  of  Natchitoches  by  an  easy  detour,  the  party 
were  in  the  wilderness  an  hour  before  the  military 


or,  Show  your  Passports  43 

commander  of  that  fort  knew  that  a  boat  had  arrived 
from  below,  late  the  night  before. 

When  the  Spanish  sentinel  who  had  hailed  her 
found  that  her  passengers  had  all  gone  westward,  he 
thought  best  not  to  report  their  existence  to  the 
governor;  and  so  Philip  Nolan's  first  manoeuvre 
to  escape  frontier  Dogberry  No.  I  was  perfectly 
successful. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  the  whole  party  were  in 
the  pines,  through  which,  over  a  sandy  barren,  they 
were  to  ride  for  two  days.  It  was  as  if  they  had 
changed  a  world.  To  Eunice,  why,  the  snifif  of  that 
pine  fragrance  was  the  renewal  of  the  old  life  of  her 
childhood.  To  Inez  —  not  unused  to  forests,  but  all 
unused  to  pine-trees  —  the  calm  quiet  of  all  around, 
the  aromatic  fragrance,  the  softness  of  the  pine-leaves 
on  which  her  horse's  feet  fell,  all  wrought  a  charm 
which  overpowered  the  girl. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  !  " 

And  they  left  her  alone. 

"Does  this  seem  more  like  home,  Ransom?"  said 
Nolan,  letting  his  horse  stand  till  the  old  man,  who 
brought  up  the  rear,  might  join  him. 

"  Yes,  sir !  Pines  is  pines,  though  these  be  poor 
things.  Pine-trees  down  East  is  n't  crooked  as  these 
be;  good  for  masts,  good  for  yards;  sawed  one  on 
'em  into  three  pieces  when  they  wanted  three  masts 
for  the  '  Constitution/  But  these  has  the  right  smell. 
These  's  good  for  kindlin's." 

"  You  followed  the  sea  once,  Ransom?  " 

"  Sarved  under  old  Mugford  first  year  of  the  war; 
was  Manly's  bo's'n  when  he  went  out  in  '77." 


44  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"Mugford?"  asked  Nolan.  "I  don't  remember 
him." 

"  Pity  you  don't.  Real  old  sea-dog;  wasn't  afraid 
of  saltpetre.  These  fellers  now,  with  their  anchors, 
and  gold  braid  on  they  coat-collars,  don't  know 
nothin'.  Old  Mugford  never  wore  gold  lace ;  did  n't 
have  none  to  wear.  Wore  a  tarpaulin  and  a  pea- 
jacket,  when  he  could  git  it ;  ef  he  could  n't  git  it, 
wore  nothin'.  Real  old  sea-dog !  " 

"Where  did  you  cruise?  " 

"  All  along  shore.  Went  out  arter  Howe  when  the 
gineral  druv  him  out  of  Boston.  Kind  o'  hung  round 
and  picked  up  this  vessel  and  that,  that  was  runnin' 
into  the  bay,  cos  they  did  n't  know  the  British  was 
gone.  Took  one  vessel  with  six  guns,  and  no  end  of 
powder  and  shot.  The  old  gineral  he  was  glad 
enough  of  that,  he  was.  No  end  of  powder  and 
shot :  six  guns  she  had.  Took  her  runnin'  into  the 
bay.  We  was  in  the  '  Franklin '  then." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Ransom." 

"  That 's  all  they  is  to  tell.  I  sighted  our  nine- 
pounder  myself,  —  hulled  her  three  times,  and  she 
struck.  Old  Mugford  sent  her  into  Boston,  and 
stood  off  for  more." 

And  the  old  man  looked  into  the  sky  with  that 
wistful  look  again,  as  if  the  very  clouds  would  change 
into  armed  vessels,  and  renew  the  fight ;  and  for  a 
moment  Nolan  thought  he  would  say  no  more.  But 
he  humored  him. 

"  Next  mornin',"  said  Ransom,  after  a  minute,  — 
"  next  mornin',  when  we  was  to  anchor  off  the  Gut, 
t>e  hanged  if  they  warn't  thirteen  boats  from  some  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  45 

their  frigates  crawlin'  up  to  us  as  soon  as  the  light 
broke.  We  gin  'em  blazes,  cap'n.  We  sunk  five  on 
'em  without  askin'  leave.  Then  they  thought  they  'd 
board  us.  Better  luck  Another  time.  Gosh!  Poor 
devils  caught  hold  of  her  gunnel ;  and  we  cut  off 
their  hands  with  broad-axes,  we  did." 

"And  Mugford?" 

"  Oh !  you  know  Mugford  reached  arter  one  on 
'em  to  cut  at  his  head,  and  he  got  stuck  just  here 
with  a  boardin'  pike,  'n  he  called  Abel  Turner.  I 
stood  with  him  in  ma  own  arms.  He  called  Abel 
Turner,  and  says  he,  '  I 'm  a  dead  man,  Turner: 
don't  give  up  the  vessel.  Beat  'em  off,  beat  'em  off. 
You  can  cut  the  cable,'  says  he,  '  and  run  her  ashore/ 
Did  n't  say  'nother  word :  fell  down  dead." 

Another  pause.  Nolan  humored  him  still,  and  said 
nothing.  And,  after  another  wistful  glance  at  the 
heavens,  the  old  man  went  on,  — 

"  Turner  see  the  frigate  was  comin*  down  on  him, 
and  he  run  her  ashore  on  Pullin*  Point;  and  he  sot 
fire  to  her,  so  that  cruise  was  done.  But  none  o'  them 
fellers  was  ever  piped  to  grog  again,  they  was  n't;  no, 
nor  old  Mugford,  neyther." 

A  long  pause,  in  which  Nolan  let  the  old  fellow's 
reminiscences  work  as  they  might:  he  would  not 
interrupt  him. 

But  when  he  saw  the  spell  had  been  fairly  broken 
by  some  little  detention,  as  they  cared  for  the  ladies 
in  the  crossing  of  a  "  sloo  "  or  water-course,  Nolan 
said  to  his  old  friend  cautiously,  — 

"  Did  you  see  the  general?  Did  you  see  General 
Washington  when  he  drove  Howe  out?" 


46  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

Nolan  spoke  with  that  kind  of  veneration  for 
Washington's  name  which  was  then,  perhaps,  at  its 
very  acme,  —  at  the  period  when  the  whole  country 
was  under  the  impress  of  his  recent  death. 

"  Guess  I  did.  Seen  him  great  many  times.  I  was 
standin*  right  by  him  when  he  come  into  the  old  tavern 
at  the  head  of  King  Street,  jest  where  the  pump  is, 
by  the  Town  House.  Gage  boarded  there,  and  Howe 
and  Clinton  had  they  quarters  there;  and  so  the 
gineral  come  there  when  our  army  marched  in. 

"  They  was  a  little  gal  stood  there  starin'  at  him 
and  all  the  rest;  and  he  took  her  up,  and  he  kissed 
her,  he  did. 

"  'Ne  said  to  her,  '  Sis,  says  he,  'which  do  you  like 
best,  the  redcoats  or  the  Yankees  ?  '  'N  the  child  says, 
says  she,  she  liked  the  redcoats,  the  best,  —  gal-like, 
you  know,  —  cos  they  looked  so  nice.  'N  he  laughed 
right  out,  'ne  says  to  her,  '  Woll,'  says  he,  '  they  du 
have  the  best  clothes,  but  it  takes  the  ragged  boys  to 
du  the  fightin'.  Oh,  I  seen  him  lots  o'  times." 

By  this  time  Nolan  thought  he  might  venture  to 
join  Inez  again.  She  was  now  talking  eagerly  with 
her  aunt,  and  seemed  to  have  passed  the  depressed 
moment  which  the  young  soldier  had  respected,  and 
had  left  to  her  own  resolution. 

The  truth  was,  that  a  ride  through  a  pine-forest  in 
beginning  a  journey  so  adventurous,  with  no  immedi- 
ate possibility  of  a  return  to  her  father's  care,  had 
started  the  girl  on  the  train  of  memories  and  other 
thoughts  which  stirred  her  most  completely.  For 
her  mother  she  had  a  veneration,  but  it  was  simply 
for  an  ideal  being.  For  her  aunt  she  had  an  idola- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  47 

trous  enthusiasm,  which  her  aunt  wholly  deserved. 
For  the  French  and  Spanish  ladies  and  gentlemen 
around  her,  in  their  constant  wars  and  jealousies  with 
each  other,  she  had  even  an  undue  contempt.  Her 
father's  central  and  profound  interest  in  his  own  coun- 
try and  its  prosperity  came  down  to  her  in  the  form 
of  a  chivalrous  passion  for  people  she  had  never  seen, 
and  institutions  and  customs  which  she  knew  only  in 
the  theory  or  the  idea.  It  would  be  hard,  indeed,  to 
tell  whether  her  Aunt  Eunice's  more  guarded  narrative 
of  her  early  life,  or  old  Ransom's  wild  exaggerations 
of  the  glories  of  New  England,  had  the  most  to  do 
with  a  loyalty  for  the  newly  born  nation  which  the 
girl  found  few  ways  to  express,  and  indeed  few  ears 
to  listen  to. 

Such  a  dreamer  found  herself  now,  for  the  first 
time,  in  the  weird  silence  of  a  pine-forest,  which  she 
fancied  must  be  precisely  like  the  silent  pine-groves 
of  her  father's  home.  Nor  was  any  one  cruel  enough 
to  undeceive  her  by  pointing  out  the  differences. 
She  could  hear  the  soughing  of  the  wind,  as  if  it  had 
been  throwing  up  the  waves  upon  the  beach.  Her 
horse's  feet  fell  noiseless  on  the  brown  carpet  of 
leaves  below  her.  And  she  was  the  centre,  if  not  the 
commander,  of  a  party  all  loyal  to  her,  —  strangers 
in  a  strange  land,  threatened  perhaps,  as  it  seemed, 
by  the  minions  of  this  king  she  despised,  though  it 
was  her  bad  luck  to  be  born  under  his  banner. 

"  Surely,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  am  escaping  from 
my  thraldom,  if  it  be  only  for  a  few  days.  I  am  a 
woman  now,  and  in  these  forests,  at  least,  I  am  an 
American." 


48  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

In  this  mood  Nolan  found  her. 

"You  have  been  talking  with  my  dear  old  Ran- 
som, Captain  Nolan." 

"  Yes :  he  has  been  telling  me  of  his  battles.  Did 
you  know  how  often  the  old  fellow  has  been  under 
fire?" 

"  Know  it?  Could  I  not  tell  you  every  shot  he 
fired  in  the  ' Franklin'?  Don't  I  know  every  word 
of  Mugford's,  and  every  cruise  of  Manly's?  I  love 
to  make  him  tell  those  old  stories.  Captain  Nolan, 
why  did  we  not  live  in  such  times?  " 

"  Perhaps  we  do." 

"  Do  ?  I  wish  I  thought  so  !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  The 
only  battles  I  see  are  the  madame  superior's  battles 
with  his  excellency  the  governor,  whether  the  Donna 
Louisa  shall  learn  a  French  verb  or  not.  I  am  sick 
of  their  lies  and  their  shilly-shally:  are  not  you?  " 

"  There  is  no  harm  in  saying  to  you  that  for  two 
years  I  have  been  hoping  to  lead  a  hundred  riflemen 
down  this  very  trail." 

"Thank  you,  Captain  Nolan,  for  saying  something 
which  sounds  so  sensible.  Take  my  hand  upon  it, 
and  count  me  for  number  one  when  the  time  comes 
to  enlist.  Have  you  been  in  battle,  captain?  or  are 
you  a  captain  like  —  "  And  she  paused. 

Nolan  laughed. 

*'  Like  the  governor's  aids  yonder,  with  their 
feathers  and  their  gold  lace?  Woe  's  me,  Miss  Inez ! 
the  powder  I  have  burned  has  been  sometimes  under 
fire  from  the  Comanches,  sometimes  when  I  did  not 
choose  to  be  scalped  by  another  redskin,  but  nothing 
that  you  would  call  war." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  49 

"  But  you  have  been  in  the  army.  You  brought 
Captain  Pope  to  our  house,  and  Lieutenant  Pike/1 

"  Oh,  yes  !  If  being  with  army  men  will  help  you, 
count  me  one.  A  good  many  of  the  older  officers 
were  in  the  war,  you  know.  General  Wilkinson  was, 
and  Colonel  Freeman  was.  There  is  no  end  to  their 
talk  of  war  days.  But  I  —  I  did  nothing  but  train, 
as  we  called  it,  with  the  volunteers  at  Frankfort,  when 
we  thought  the  Indians  would  burn  us  out  of  house 
and  home." 

"  Did  you  never  —  did  you  never  —  Captain  Nolan, 
don't  think  it  a  foolish  question  —  did  you  never  see 
Washington?" 

"  Oh,  no !  "  he  said,  with  a  tone  that  showed  her 
that  he  would  not  laugh  at  her  eagerness.  "But 
these  men  have  :  Wilkinson  has ;  Freeman  has.  They 
will  talk  by  the  hour  to  you  about  what  he  said  and 
did.  I  wish  they  had  all  loved  him  as  well  then  as 
they  say  they  did  now.  But  really,  Miss  Inez,  I  do 
believe  that,  in  the  trying  times  that  are  just  now 
coming,  young  America  is  going  to  be  true  to  old 
America.  These  twenty  years  have  not  been  for 
nothing." 

"  Say  it  again,"  said  the  girl,  with  more  feeling 
than  can  be  described. 

"Why,  what  goes  there?"  cried  Nolan. 

He  dashed  forward;  but  this  time  old  Ransom 
rose  before  him,  and  was  the  person  to  receive  the 
challenge  of  a  Spanish  trooper. 

The  man  was  in  the  leathern  garments  of  the  wil- 
derness; but  he  had  a  sash  round  his  waist,  a  cock- 
ade in  his  hat,  and  a  short  carbine  swinging  at  his 

4 


50  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

saddle,  distinct  enough  evidences  that  he  belonged 
to  the  Spanish  army.  In  a  moment  more,  the  whole 
group  of  cavaliers  approached  him,  so  that  the  con- 
versation, if  such  it  may  be  called,  which  he  began 
with  Ransom,  was  continued  by  others  of  the  party. 

The  Spanish  horseman  volubly  bade  them  stop  in 
the  king's  name,  and  show  who  they  were.  He  had 
orders  to  arrest  all  travellers,  and  turn  them  back. 

"What  did  you  tell  him,  Ransom?"  said  Eunice, 
as  soon  as  she  came  up. 

"  Told  him  to  go  and  be  hanged.  Told  him  he 
had  n't  got  no  orders  to  arrest  us,  cos  the  gov'ner 
had  sent  us.  Told  him  he  did  n't  know  nothin'  about 
it.  Ye  brother  hed  made  it  all  right  with  the  gov'ner, 
and  had  gone  to  see  the  king  about  it.  Wen  I  told 
him  about  the  king,  he  seemed  frightened,  and  said 
he  would  see." 

The  appearance  of  the  Spanish  sergeant  was  indeed 
a  surprise  to  all  parties.  Nolan  had  told  Eunice  that 
they  should  meet  no  one  before  they  came  to  the 
Sabine  River,  and  that  he  would  keep  himself  out  of 
the  way  when  that  time  came;  and  now  they  had 
stumbled  on  just  such  another  party  as  he  met  the 
week  before,  sent  out,  as  it  would  seem,  simply  to 
look  after  him.  Eunice,  however,  was  quite  ready 
for  the  emergency. 

She  saluted  the  Spanish  sergeant  most  courteously, 
apologized  in  a  few  well-chosen  words  of  very  good 
Castilian  for  her  servant's  "  impetuosity,"  and  gave 
to  the  sergeant  a  little  travelling-bag  which  had 
swung  at  her  saddle,  telling  him,  that,  if  he  would 
open  it,  he  would  find  the  pass  which  the  Marquis 


or,  Show  your  Passports  5 1 

of  Casa  Calvo  had  provided  for  them,  and  his  recom- 
mendation to  any  troops  of  General  Cordero. 

"  I  cannot  be  grateful  enough,"  she  said,  "  to  the 
good  Providence  which  has  so  soon  given  to  us  the 
valorous  protection  of  the  chivalrous  soldiers  of 
the  king  of  Spain." 

The  sergeant  bowed,  a  good  deal  surprised,  did 
not  say  he  could  not  read,  as  he  might  have  said 
with  truth;  but,  touching  his  hat  with  courtesy, 
turned  to  an  officer  approaching  him,  whose  dress 
had  rather  more  of  cloth  and  rather  less  of  leather 
than  his  own,  and  indicated  that  he  would  show  the 
passport  to  him. 

Captain  Morales  opened  and  scrutinized  both 
papers,  returned  them  silently  to  the  leather  satchel, 
and  with  a  low  bow,  gave  it  back  to  Eunice. 

"  This  is  a  sufficient  pass  for  yourself,  my  lady,  and 
for  the  senorita  who  accompanies  you,  and  for  your 
party.  How  many  of  these  gentlemen  and  servants 
are  of  your  party?  My  officer  here  will  fill  out  the 
verbal  catalogue,  which  the  secretary  of  the  marquis 
has  omitted." 

"  Let  me  present  the  Senorita  Perry,  my  niece. 
Here  is  my  major-domo;  these  three  are  servants 
with  their  duties  in  her  household ;  the  old  negro 
yonder  is  our  cook." 

The  lieutenant  entered  on  his  tablet  this  answer, 
and  Captain  Morales  said,  — 

"  And  who  is  the  hidalgo  behind  you,  —  the  gen- 
tleman who  says  nothing?  " 


52  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

CHAPTER  V 

SAVE  ME  FROM  MY  FRIENDS 

"  My  heart's  uneasiness  is  simply  told,  — 
I  hate  the  Greeks,  although  they  give  me  gold  : 
This  firm  right  hand  shall  foil  my  foemen's  ends, 
If  Heaven  will  kindly  save  me  from  my  friends." 

After  DRYDEN. 

"  LET  me  present  my  friend,'*  said  Eunice  at  once, 
without  the  slightest  confusion. 

Nolan  meanwhile  was  sitting  listlessly  on  his  horse, 
as  if  he  did  not  understand  one  word  of  the  colloquy. 

"  Monsieur  Philippe  !  Monsieur  Philippe  !  "  cried 
Eunice,  turning  to  him  eagerly;  and,  as  he  rode  up, 
she  addressed  him  in  French,  saying,  "  Let  me  pre- 
sent you  to  Captain  Morales.'* 

And  then  to  this  officer,  — 

"  This  is  my  friend,  Monsieur  Philippe,  a  partner 
of  my  brother  in  his  business,  to  whom  in  his  absence 
in  Paris  he  has  left  the  charge  of  us  ladies.  He  is 
kind  enough  to  act  as  the  intendant  of  our  little 
party.  May  I  ask  you  to  address  him  in  French?  " 

In  this  suggestion  Captain  Morales,  who  was  already 
a  little  suspicious  when  he  found  a  woman  conduct- 
ing the  principal  conversation  of  this  interview,  found 
a  certain  excuse.  The  Spanish  officers  in  the  govern- 
ment of  Louisiana  all  spoke  French,  as  the  people 
did  who  were  under  their  command.  They  were, 
indeed,  in  large  measure  chosen  from  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, that  they  might  be  at  home  in  that  language. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  53 

But  there  was  no  reason  for  such  selection  in  the 
appointment  of  officers  who  served  in  Mexico,  like 
Morales ;  nor  could  Eunice,  at  the  first  glance,  be 
supposed  to  know  whether  he  spoke  French  or  not. 

In  truth  he  did  speak  that  language  very  ill.  And, 
after  a  stately  "  Bon  jour"  his  first  questions  to 
Monsieur  Philippe  halted  and  broke  so  badly  that 
with  a  courtly  smile  he  excused  himself,  and  said 
that  if  the  lady  would  have  the  goodness  to  act  as 
interpreter,  he  would  avail  himself  of  her  mediation. 

"  Your  name  is  not  mentioned  on  this  lady's  pass- 
port, Monsieur  Philippe." 

"  I  was  not  in  Orleans  when  it  was  granted.  It  is, 
I  believe,  a  general  permit  to  the  Donna  Eunice 
Perry  and  her  party." 

"Have  you,  then,  lately  arrived  from  Paris?'1 

"  The  worshipful  Don  Silas  has  just  now  sailed  for 
Paris.  For  myself,  I  only  overtook  the  ladies,  by  the 
aid  of  horses  often  changed,  at  the  rapids  of  the  Red 
River.  I  count  myself  fortunate  that  I  overtook 
them.  His  Excellency  was  himself  pleased  to  direct 
me  to  use  every  means  at  his  command  in  their 
service,  and  I  have  done  so." 

Nolan  would  not  have  said  this  were  it  not  true. 
Strange  to  say,  it  was  literally  and  perfectly  true. 
For  one  of  the  absurdities  of  the  divided  command 
which  gave  Louisiana  to  one  Spanish  governor,  and 
Texas  to  another,  at  this  time,  was  the  preposterous 
jealousy  which  maintained  between  these  officers  a 
sort  of  armed  or  guarded  relation,  as  if  one  were  a 
Frenchman  because  his  province  had  a  French  name, 
and  only  the  other  were  a  true  officer  of  the  Catholic 


54  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

king,  —  an  absurdity,  but  not  an  unusual  absurdity. 
Just  such  an  absurdity,  not  twenty  years  before,  made 
the  discord  between  Cornwallis  and  Clinton,  which 
gave  to  Washington  the  victory  of  Yorktown,  and 
gave  to  America  her  independence. 

So  was  it,  that,  while  the  Marquis  of  Casa  Calvo 
at  New  Orleans  was  Nolan's  cordial  friend,  Elguesebal 
in  Texas  and  De  Nava  at  Chihuahua  were  watching 
and  dogging  him  as  an  enemy. 

"  Will  my  lady  ask  the  hidalgo  what  was  the 
public  news  in  Paris?  Our  two  crowns,  —  or,  rather, 
his  Catholic  Majesty's  crown  and  the  First  Consul 
of  France,  —  they  are  in  good  accord  ?  What  were 
the  prospects  of  the  treaty?  " 

"France  and  Spain  were  never  better  friends,"  re- 
plied Nolan,  "  if  all  is  true  that  seems.  The  public 
journals  announce  the  negotiations  of  a  treaty.  Of 
its  articles  more  secret,  even  the  Captain  Morales  will 
pardon  me  if  I  do  not  speak.  He  will  respect  my 
confidence." 

The  truth  was,  that  even  at  this  early  moment  a 
suspicion  was  haunting  men's  minds,  of  what  was 
true  before  the  month  was  over,  —  that  by  the  treaty 
of  Ildefonso  the  Spanish  king  would  cede  the  terri- 
tory of  Louisiana  to  Napoleon. 

Captain  Morales  had  heard  some  rumor  of  this  pol- 
icy, even  in  Nacogdoches.  The  allusion  to  it  made  by 
Nolan  confirmed  him  in  his  first  suspicion,  that  this 
young  Frenchman  who  could  speak  no  Spanish  was 
some  unavowed  agent  of  the  First  Consul,  Napoleon. 

If  he  were,  it  was  doubtless  his  own  business  to 
treat  him  with  all  respect. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  55 

At  the  moment,  therefore,  that  Nolan  confessed  he 
must  speak  with  reserve,  the  Spaniard's  doubts  as  to 
his  character  gave  way  entirely.  He  offered  his 
hand  frankly  to  the  young  Frenchman,  and  bade  him 
and  the  lady  .rely  on  his  protection. 

"  Your  party  is  quite  too  small,11  he  said.  "  I  am 
only  sorry  that  I  cannot  detail  a  fit  escort  for  you. 
But  I  am  charged  with  a  special  duty,  —  the  arrest 
of  an  American  freebooter  who  threatens  us  with  an 
army  of  Kenny — Kenny  —  tuckians.  The  Ameri- 
cans have  such  hard  names  !  They  are  indeed  allies 
of  the  savages.  But  I  will  order  four  of  my  troopers 
to  accompany  you  to  Nacogdoches,  and  the  com- 
mandant there  can  do  more  for  you." 

Nolan  and  Eunice  joined  in  begging  him  not  to 
weaken  his  force.  They  were  quite  sufficient  for 
their  own  protection,  they  said.  The  servants  were 
none  of  them  cowards,  and  had  had  some  experience 
with  their  weapons.  But  the  captain  was  firm  in  his 
Castilian  politeness ;  and,  as  any  undue  firmness  on 
their  part  in  rejecting  so  courteous  an  offer  must 
awaken  his  suspicions,  they  were  obliged  to  comply 
with  his  wish,  and  accept  the  inopportune  escort 
which  he  provided  for  them. 

Inez,  meanwhile,  wild  with  curiosity  and  excite- 
ment, as  the  colloquy  passed  through  its  different 
stages  of  suspicion  and  of  confidence,  had  not  dared 
express  her  fear,  her  amusement,  or  her  surprise, 
even  by  a  glance.  She  saw  it  was  safest  for  her  to 
drop  her  veil,  and  to  sit  the  impassive  Castilian 
maiden,  fresh  from  a  nunnery,  which  Captain  Morales 
supposed  her  to  be. 


56  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

As  for  old  Ransom,  the  major-domo  of  Eunice's 
establishment,  he  sat  at  a  respectful  distance,  heeding 
every  word  of  the  conversation,  in  whatever  language 
it  passed,  with  a  face  as  free  from  expression  as  the 
pine-knot  on  the  tree  next  him.  Once  and  again  he 
lifted  his  eyes  to  the  heavens  with  that  wistful  look 
of  his,  which  was  rather  the  glance  of  an  astronomer 
than  of  a  devotee.  But  the  general  aspect  of  the 
man  was  of  an  impatient  observer  of  events,  who  had 
himself,  Cassandra-like,  stated  in  advance  what  must 
be  and  was  to  be,  and  was  now  grieved  that  he  must 
await  the  slow  processes  of  meaner  intelligences. 

At  last  his  patience  was  relieved.  Captain  Morales 
drew  from  his  haversack  a  slip  of  paper,  on  which 
he  wrote :  — 

"  By  order  of  the  King  : 

Know  all  men,  that  the  Lady  Eunice  and  Lady  Inez,  with 
Monsieur  Philippe,  the  intendant  of  their  household,  with 
one  Ransom  and  four  other  servants,  have  free 

Pass  and  Escort 

to  the  King's  loyal  city  of  San  Antonio  de 

Bexar  under  direction  of  the  military  commandant,  and 
after  inspection  by  me.  MORALES, 

Captain  of  Artillery. 
Long  live  the  King  !  " 

He  then  told  off  a  corporal  or  sergeant  with  three 
troopers,  and  bade  them,  nothing  loath,  accompany 
the  Orleans  party  to  Nacogdoches.  He  gave  his 
hand  courteously  to  the  Senora  Eunice  and  Monsieur 
Philippe,  touched  his  hat  as  courteously  to  the 
Senorita  Inez,  and  even  threw  his  party  into  military 


or,  Show  your  Passports  57 

order  as  the  others  passed,  and  gave  them  a  military 
salute  as  his  last  farewell. 

"  Save  me  from  my  friends,"  said  Nolan,  as  he 
joined  the  Donna  Eunice  after  this  formality  was 
over,  and  each  party  was  out  of  sight  of  each  other. 
"  Save  me  from  my  friends !  This  civility  of  your 
friend  the  captain  is  more  inconvenient  to  us  than 
the  impudence  of  my  captain  on  the  prairie  yonder." 

"  I  see  it  is,"  said  Eunice  thoughtfully.  "  I  am 
afraid  I  have  done  wrong.  But  really,  Captain  Nolan, 
I  was  so  eager  to  take  you  under  our  protection  —  I 
knew  my  brother  would  be  so  glad  to  serve  you  —  I 
thought  the  governor  had  this  very  purpose  in  his 
mind  —  that  I  thought,  even  if  the  truth  was  for  once 
good  policy,  I  would  tell  him  the  truth  still." 

And  she  pretended  to  laugh,  but  she  almost  cried. 

"  Of  course  you  could  tell  him  nothing  else,"  said  he. 

"  Indeed  I  could  not.  Nobody  could  ask  me  actu- 
ally to  betray  you  by  name  to  your  enemies." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  Kentuckian,  laughing  with- 
out reserve.  "  If  indeed  they  are  my  enemies.  I  wish 
I  could  tell  them  at  sight.  If  they  would  show  their 
colors  as  they  make  us  show  ours,  it  would  be  well  and 
good,"  he  added.  "  If,  when  we  see  a  buckskin  rascal 
with  the  King  of  Spain's  cockade,  he  would  wear  a 
feather  besides,  to  say  whether  he  is  a  Texan  Spaniard 
or  an  Orleans  Spaniard,  that  would  do.  But  pray  do 
not  be  anxious,  Miss  Eunice.  My  anxieties  are  almost 
over  now.  I  can  take  good  care  of  myself,  and  the 
King  of  Spain  seems  likely  to  take  care  of  you.  I 
am  well  disposed  to  believe  old  Ransom,  that  your 
father  has  gone  to  the  king  to  tell  him  all  about  it." 


58  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Eunice  said  that  she  did  not  see  how  he  could 
speak  so.  How  could  he  bring  his  party  up  to  them, 
if  there  were  these  four  spies  hanging  on  all  the 
way? 

"  I  can  see,"  replied  Nolan,  laughing,  "  that  dear 
Ransom  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  blow  out 
their  brains,  and  throw  them  all  into  the  next  creek. 
But  really  that  is  a  very  ungracious  treatment  of  men 
who  only  want  to  take  care  of  fair  ladies.  We  must 
not  be  jealous  of  their  attentions." 

Then  he  added  more  seriously,  — 

"  I  am  afraid  this  meeting  may  cut  off  from  me 
the  pleasure  of  many  such  rides  as  this ;  and,  believe 
me,  I  have  looked  forward  eagerly  to  more  of  them 
than  was  reason.  As  soon  as  these  fellows  will  spare 
me,  I  must  ride  across  and  meet  my  party,  and  warn 
them  not  to  come  too  near  your  line  of  travel.  But 
I  can  put  another  '  intendant '  in  my  place,  and,  if 
need  be,  more  than  one;  and  I  can  leave  you  the 
satisfaction,  if  it  is  any,  to  know  that  I  am  not  far 
away/' 

"  If  it  is  any !  What  would  my  brother  think,  if 
he  did  not  suppose  that  five  of  you  were  behind 
Inez,  and  five  before,  five  on  the  right  hand,  and  five 
on  the  left?  Still  I  suppose  we  are  perhaps  even 
safer  now."  This  somewhat  anxiously. 

"  Dear  Miss  Eunice,  you  are  never  so  safe  in  this 
world  as  when  you  make  no  pretence  of  strength, 
while  in  truth  you  are  well  guarded.  When  I  am 
weak,  then  I  am  strong."  This  he  said  with  his 
voice  dropping,  and  very  reverently.  "  If  this  is  true 
in  the  greatest  things,  if  it  is  true  in  trials  where  the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  59 

Devil  is  nearest,  all  the  more  is  it  true  in  the  wilder- 
ness. A  large  party,  with  the  fuss  of  its  encampment, 
attracts  every  Bedouin  savage  and  every  cut-throat 
Greaser  within  a  hundred  miles.  They  come  together 
like  crows.  But  a  handful  of  people  like  yours  will 
most  likely  ride  to  San  Antonio  without  seeing  sav- 
age or  Christian,  except  such  as  are  at  the  fort  and 
the  ferries.  Then,  the  moment  these  four  gentlemen 
are  tired  of  you,  I  shall  be  in  communication,  and 
my  men  in  buckram  will  appear." 

"  Men  in  buckram !  that  is  too  bad,"  said  Inez, 
who  had  joined  their  colloquy.  "  Where  may  your 
men  in  buckram  be  just  now?" 

"  They  are  a  good  deal  nearer  to  us  than  your 
admirer,  Captain  Morales,  supposes.  But  he  is  riding 
away  from  them  as  fast  as  he  can  ride,  and  they  are 
riding  away  from  him  at  a  pace  more  moderate.  You 
shall  see,  Miss  Inez,  when  the  camping-time  comes, 
whether  my  men  are  in  buckram,  in  broadcloth,  or 
in  satin.'1 

Sure  enough,  when  the  sun  was  within  an  hour  of 
setting,  as  that  peerless  October  day  went  by,  the 
little  party,  passing  out  from  a  tract  rather  more 
thickly  wooded  than  usual,  came  out  upon  a  lovely 
glade,  where  the  solitude  was  broken.  Two  tents 
were  pitched,  and  on  one  of  them  a  little  blue  flag 
floated.  Three  or  four  men  in  leathern  hunting- 
shirts  were  lying  on  the  ground,  but  sprang  to  their 
feet  the  moment  the  new  party  appeared. 

"  My  lady  is  at  home,"  said  Nolan,  resuming  the 
mock  air  of  formal  courtesy  with  which  he  and  Inez 
so  often  amused  themselves.  "  My  backwoodsmen 


60  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

have  come  in  advance,  as  Puss  in  Boots  did  to 
arrange  for  my  lady's  comfort." 

"Are  these  your  men?  You  are  too  careful, 
captain,  or  too  careless,  I  do  not  know  which  to  say, 
—  too  careful  for  me,  and  too  careless  for  your  own 
safety." 

"  That  for  my  safety,"  said  the  reckless  young  man, 
snapping  his  fingers.  "  If  your  ladyship  sleeps  well, 
we  ask  nothing  more.  To  say  true,  my  lady,  I  am 
the  most  timid  of  men :  praise  me  for  my  prudence. 
Were  I  not  caution  personified,  I  should  have  com- 
manded William  yonder  to  fly  the  stars  and  stripes 
over  your  majesty's  tent.  But  I  had  care  for  your 
majesty's  comfort.  I  knew  these  Greasers  would 
know  those  colors  too  well." 

"  And  he  has !  and  he  has !  Oh,  you  are  good, 
Captain  Nolan!  —  See,  aunty,  the  flag  that  flies 
over  us." 

There  is  many  a  girl  in  Massachusetts  who  reads 
these  words,  who  does  not  kno.w  that  the  flag  of  her 
own  State  displays  on  a  blue  field  a  shield  bearing  an 
Indian  proper  and  a  star  argent  —  which  means  an 
Indian  painted  in  his  own  manner  as  he  is,  and  a  star 
of  silver.  But  in  those  days  each  State  had  had  to 
subsist  for  itself,  even  to  strike  its  own  coin,  and  often 
to  fight  under  its  own  flag;  and  this  New  England 
girl,  who  had  never  seen  New  England,  knew  the 
cognizance  of  her  own  land  as  well  as  the  Lotties 
and  Fannies  and  Aggies — -the  Massachusetts  girls 
of  to-day  —  know  the  cognizance  of  England  or  of 
Austria. 

"Welcome  home,  ladies,"  said  the  tall,  handsome 


or,  Show  your  Passports  61 

young  soldier,  who  took  Eunice's  horse  by  the  head, 
while  Nolan  lifted  her  from  the  saddle. 

"  This  is  the  ladies'  own  tent,  captain.  We  have 
set  the  table  in  the  other."  And  the  ladies  passed  in 
at  the  tent-door  to  find  the  hammocks  swung  for 
them,  two  camp-stools  open,  a  little  table  cut  with  a 
hatchet  from  the  bark  of  large  pines,  and  covered 
with  a  white  napkin,  on  which  stood  ready  a  candle- 
stick and  a  tinder-box ;  and  another  rough  table  like 
it,  with  a  tin  basin  full  of  water;  and  two  large 
gourds,  tightly  corked,  on  the  pine  carpet  at  its  side. 

"  We  are  in  a  palace,"  cried  Inez.  "  How  can  we 
thank  these  gentlemen  enough  for  their  care  ?  " 

"  I  must  tell  you  who  they  are.  —  Why,  William, 
where  have  the  others  gone?  —  Miss  Eunice,  Miss 
Inez,  this  is  my  other  self,  William  Harrod.  William, 
you  knew  who  these  ladies  were  long  before  you  saw 
them.  Ladies,  if  I  told  you  that  William  Harrod  was 
Ephraim  Harrod's  brother,  it  would  not  help  you.  If 
I  said  he  was  the  best  marksman  in  the  great  valley, 
you  would  not  care.  When  I  say  he  is  the  best 
fellow  that  lives,  you  must  believe  me." 

"  Leave  them  to  find  that  out,  captain." 

"  The  captain  tells  enough  when  he  says  you  are 
his  other  self.  In  a  country  like  this,  one  is  glad  to 
find  two  Philip  Nolans." 

Old  Ransom  and  his  party,  meanwhile,  were  a  little 
disgusted  that  the  preparations  they  had  made  for  the 
mistress's  accommodation  on  her  first  night  away 
from  the  river  should  be  thus  put  in  the  shade  by  the 
unexpected  encampment  on  which  they  had  lighted. 
Before  their  journey  was  finished,  they  were  glad 


62  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

enough  to  stumble  on  cattle-shed  or  abandoned  camp 
which  might  save  them  from  the  routine  of  uncording 
and  cording  up  their  tents ;  but  to  be  anticipated  on 
the  very  first  night  of  camp-life  was  an  annoyance. 
When,  however,  Ransom  found  that  these  were  Cap- 
tain Nolan's  people,  and  that  the  preparation  had  been 
dictated  by  his  forethought,  his  brow  cleared,  and  the 
severe  animadversions  by  which  he  had  at  first  con- 
demned every  arrangement  changed,  more  suddenly 
than  the  wind  changes,  into  expressions  of  approval 
as  absolute. 

While  the  ladies  were  preparing  for  the  supper, 
Ransom  amused  himself  with  the  Spanish  soldiers. 

One  of  them  had  asked  what  the  flag  was  which 
was  displayed  above  the  ladies'  tent. 

"  Ignorant  nigger !  "  said  Ransom  afterward,  as  he 
detailed  the  conversation  to  Miss  Eunice.  (The  man 
was  no  more  a  negro  than  Ransom  was ;  but  it  was 
his  habit  to  apply  this  phrase  to  all  persons  of  a 
Southern  race.)  "  Ignorant  nigger !  I  axed  him  ef 
he  did  n't  know  the  private  signal  uv  his  own  king. 
I  told  him  the  King  uv  Spain,  when  he  went  out  to 
ride  with  the  ladies  uv  the  court,  or  when  he  sot  at 
dinner  in  his  own  pallis,  had  that  'ere  flag  flyin'  over 
his  throne.  I  told  him  that  he  gin  your  brother  a 
special  permit  to  use  it,  wen  he  gin  him  the  star  of 
San  lago  for  wot  he  did  in  the  war  with  the  pirates." 

"  Ransom  !  how  could  you  !  "  said  Eunice,  trying 
to  look  forbidding,  while  Inez  was  screaming  with 
delight,  and  beckoning  to  her  new  friend,  Mr.  Harrod, 
to  listen. 

"  Only  way  with  'em,  marm.     They  all  lies ;  and, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  63 

ef  you  don't  lie  to  'em,  they  dunno  wot  you  mean. 
Answer  a  fool  accordin'  to  his  folly,  is  the  rule,  mum. 
Heerd  it  wen  I  was  a  boy.  Wen  I  'm  in  Turkey,  I 
do  as  the  turkeys  do,  marm;  they  ain't  no  other 
way.  They  all  lies  !  " 

Caesar  appeared,  grinning,  and  said  that  supper  was 
ready.  One  of  Harrod's  aids  stood  at  the  door  of  the 
second  of  his  tents,  saluted  as  his  officer  and  Nolan 
led  the  ladies  in ;  and  Caesar  and  Ransom  followed, 
—  Caesar  to  wait  upon  the  hungry  travellers,  and 
Ransom  in  his  general  capacity  of  major-domo,  or 
critic-in-chief  of  all  that  was  passing. 

"We  give  you  hunters'  fare,"  said  Nolan,  who  took 
the  place  and  bearing  of  the  host  at  the  entertain- 
ment; "but  you  have  earned  your  appetites." 

"  It  would  be  hard  if  two  poor  girls  could  not  be 
satisfied  with  roasted  turkey ;  with  venison,  if  that  be 
venison;  with  quails,  if  those  be  quails;  and  with 
rabbits,  if  those  be  rabbits,  —  let  alone  the  grapes  and 
melons.  You  must  have  thought  we  had  the  appetite 
of  the  giant  Blunderbore." 

"  I  judged  your  appetite  by  my  own,"  said  Nolan, 
laughing.  "  As  for  Harrod,  he  is  a  lady's  man :  he 
has  no  appetite ;  but  perhaps  he  will  pick  a  bone  of 
the  merry-thought  of  this  intimation  of  a  partridge ;  " 
and  he  laid  the  bone  on  the  plate  of  his  laughing 
friend. 

The  truth  was  that  the  feast  was  a  feast  for  kings. 
It  was  served  with  Caesar's  nicest  finish,  and  with  the 
more  useful  science  and  precision  of  the  hunters. 
Ransom  had  made  sure  that  a  little  travelling  table- 
service,  actually  of  silver,  should  be  packed  for  the 


64  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

ladies ;  and  in  this  forest  near  the  Sabine,  under  their 
canvas  roof,  they  ate  from  a  board  as  elegantly 
appointed  as  any  in  Orleans  or  in  Mexico,  partaking 
of  fare  more  dainty  than  either  city  could  command. 
So  much  for  the  hardships  of  the  first  day  of  the 
campaign. 


CHAPTER  VI 

GOOD-BY 

"  The  rule  of  courtesy  is  thus  expressed  : 
Welcome  the  coming,  speed  the  parting  guest." 

MENELAUS  in  the  Odyssey. 

"  WHEN  hunger  now  and  thirst  were  fully  satisfied," 
Nolan  called  Ransom  to  him,  and  asked  the  old  man 
in  an  undertone  where  the  Spanish  soldiers  were. 

"  They 's  off  by  they  own  fire.  Made  a  fire  for 
theyselves.  The  men  asked  'em  to  supper,  and  gin 
'em  all  the  bacon  and  whiskey  they  'd  take.  Poor 
devils  !  don't  often  have  none.  Now  they 's  made  they 
own  fire,  and  is  gamblin'  there." 

By  the  word  "  gambling,"  Ransom  distinguished 
every  game  of  cards,  however  simple.  In  this  case, 
however,  it  is  probable  that  he  spoke  within  the 
mark. 

"  Then  we  can  talk  aloud,"  said  Nolan.  "  A  tent 
has  but  one  fault,  —  that  you  are  never  by  yourself 
in  it.  You  do  not  know  what  redskin  or  panther  is 
listening  to  you." 

Then  he  went  on :  — 


or,  Show  your  Passports  65 

"  William,  I  have  kept  myself  well  out  of  these 
rascals'  sight  all  the  afternoon.  I  have  not  looked  in 
their  faces,  and  they  have  not  looked  in  mine.  For 
this  I  had  my  reasons.  And  I  think,  and  I  believe 
the  ladies  will  think,  that  if  you  put  on  my  cap  and 
this  hunting-shirt  to-morrow,  and  permit  me  to  borrow 
that  more  elegant  equipment  of  yours,  —  if  you  will 
even  take  to  yourself  the  name  and  elegant  bearing 
of '  Monsieur  Philippe/  supposed  chargt  d'affaires  of 
the  Consul  Bonaparte,  and  certainly  partner  of  Mr. 
Silas  Perry,  —  you  may  serve  the  ladies  as  well  as  at 
the  Spanish  guard-house  yonder;  and  I  shall  serve 
them  better  even  than  you,  in  returning  for  a  day  or 
two  to  our  friends  in  buckram." 

The  ladies  asked  with  some  eagerness  the  reasons 
for  such  a  change ;  but  in  a  moment  they  were  satis- 
fied that  Nolan  was  in  the  right.  Any  stray  officer 
at  the  fort  might  recognize  him,  well  known  as  he 
was  all  along  the  frontier,  and  on  both  sides  of  it ;  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  his  own  direction  to  his  own  party 
was,  of  course,  the  most  valuable  to  all  concerned. 
There  was  some  laugh  at  the  expense  of  the  forest 
gear  which  was  to  be  changed.  The  fringes  to  the 
hunting-skirts  were  of  different  dyes ;  one  hat  bore  a 
rabbit's  tail,  and  one  the  feather  of  a  cardinal ;  but, 
for  the  two  men,  they  were  within  a  pound  of  the 
same  weight,  and  a  hair-breadth  of  the  same  size,  as 
Harrod  said,  and  he  said  it  proudly. 

"  My  other  self,  I  told  you,"  said  Nolan ;  and  then 
he  assumed  the  mock  protector,  and 'charged  the 
ladies  that  they  must  go  to  bed  for  an  early  start  in 
the  morning. 


66  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

At  sunrise,  accordingly,  the  pretty  little  camp  was 
on  the  alert.  All  the  tents,  except  those  of  the 
ladies,  were  struck  before  they  were  themselves  awake. 
Their  toilet  was  not  long,  though  it  was  elaborate; 
and  when  Inez  stepped  out  from  her  sleeping-apart- 
ment, and  looked  in  to  see  the  progress  breakfast  had 
made,  she  was  provoked  with  herself  that  she  was  the 
first  person  deceived  by  the  new-made  Dromio. 

She  slyly  approached  Mr.  Harrod,  who  stood  at 
the  table  with  his  back  to  her,  tapped  him  smartly 
on  the  shoulder,  and  said,  — 

"  Philopoena  !  Captain  Nolan,  my  memory  is  bet- 
ter than  you  think  "  —  to  have  the  handsome  "  other 
self"  turn  round,  and  confuse  her  with  his  good- 
natured  welcome. 

"  Philopoena !  indeed,  Miss  Perry,  but  it  was  not  I 
who  ate  the  almond  with  you." 

"  To  think  it,"  said  the  girl,  "  that  a  bird's  feather 
and  a  strip  of  purple  leather  should  change  one  man 
into  another !  Well,  I  thought  I  was  a  better  scout. 
Do  you  know  I  enlisted  among  Captain  Nolan's  rifles 
yesterday?  If  only  my  well-beloved  sovereign  would 
make  war  with  you  freemen,  he  would  not  find  me 
among  his  guards." 

The  girl's  whole  figure  was  alive ;  and  Harrod  un- 
derstood at  once  that  she  did  not  dislike  the  half- 
equivocal  circumstances  in  which  they  stood,  —  of 
measuring  strength  and  wit  against  the  officers  of  the 
Spanish  king. 

Breakfast  was  as  elegant  and  dainty  as  supper; 
but  the  impetuous  and  almost  imperious  Inez  could 
not  bear  that  they  should  sit  so  long.  For  herself, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  67 

she  could  and  would  take  but  one  cup  of  coffee. 
How  people  could  sit  so  over  their  coffee,  she 
could  not  see!  "Another  slice  from  the  turkey?" 
No !  Had  she  not  eaten  corn-cake  and  venison,  and 
grapes  and  fricasseed  rabbit,  all  because  Ransom  had 
cooked  or  gathered  them  himself  for  her?  Would 
dear  Aunt  Eunice  never  be  done? 

Dear  Aunt  Eunice  only  laughed,  and  waited  for  her 
second  cup  to  cool,  and  sipped  it  by  teaspoonfuls, 
and  folded  her  napkin  as  leisurely  as  if  she  had  been 
on  the  plantation,  and  as  if  none  of  them  had  any- 
thing to  do  but  to  look  at  their  watches  till  the  hour 
for  lunch-time  came. 

"  Miss  Perry,"  said  Harrod  to  her,  "  I  believe  you 
are  a  soldier's  daughter?11 

"Indeed  I  am,"  said  Eunice  heartily,  and  then, 
with  a  laugh,  "  and  a  rifleman's  aunt,  I  understand,  or 
a  rifle-woman's." 

"  Anyway,  you  dear  old  plague,  you  have  at  last 
drunk  the  last  drop  even  you  can  pretend  you  want, 
and  I  do  believe  you  have  given  the  last  fold  to  that 
napkin.  —  Gentlemen,  shall  we  not  find  it  pleasanter 
in  the  air?" 

And  she  dropped  a  mock  courtesy  to  them,  sprang 
out  of  the  tent  singing,  — 

"  Hark,  hark,  tantivy :  to  horse,  my  brave  boys,  and  away !  " 

And  away  they  went.  The  same  delicious  fra- 
grance of  the  pines;  the  exquisite  freshness  of  morn- 
ing; the  song  of  birds  not  used  to  travellers;  the 
glimpses  now  and  then  of  beasts  four-footed,  who 
were  scarcely  afraid!  Everything  combined  to  in- 


68  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

spirit  the  young  people,  and  to  make  Inez  rate  at 
its  very  lowest  the  danger  and  the  fatigue  of  the 
expedition. 

Until  they  should  come  to  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Spanish  post  at  San  Augustine,  the  two  united  parties 
were  to  remain  together.  To  the  escort  provided  by 
the  eagerness  or  suspicion  of  Captain  Morales,  the 
rencontre  of  the  night  before  was  only  the  ordinary 
incident  of  travel,  in  which  two  parties  of  friends  had 
met  each  other  and  encamped  together.  That  they 
should  make  one  body  as  they  went  on  the  next  day, 
was  simply  a  matter  of  course.  Nolan,  therefore,  had 
the  pleasure  of  one  day's  more  travel  with  his  friends ; 
and,  if  the  ladies  had  had  any  sense  of  insecurity, 
they  would  have  had  the  relief  of  his  presence  and 
that  of  his  backwoodsmen.  But  at  this  period  they 
had  no  such  anxiety  except  for  him. 

With  laugh  and  talk  and  song  of  the  four,  therefore, 
varied  by  more  serious  colloquy  as  they  fell  into 
couples,  two  and  two,  the  morning  passed  by ;  and 
Inez  and  Eunice  were  both  surprised  when  the  ex- 
perienced backwoodsmen  ordered  the  halt  for  lunch. 
They  could  not  believe  that  they  had  taken  half  the 
journey  for  the  day.  But  the  order  was  given ;  the 
beasts  were  relieved  of  their  packs;  a  shaded  and 
sheltered  spot  was  chosen  for  the  ladies'  picnic ;  and 
to  Ransom  was  given  this  time  all  the  responsibility 
and  all  the  glory  of  their  meal. 

It  was  hardly  begun,  when,  from  the  turn  which 
screened  the  trail  on  the  west,  there  appeared  an 
Indian  on  horseback ;  and,  as  Nolan  sprang  to  his  feet 
to  welcome  him,  the  rest  of  a  considerable  party  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  69 

Indians,  men  and  women  and  children,  with  all  the 
paraphernalia  of  an  encampment,  appeared. 

The  leading  man,  whose  equipment  and  manner 
showed  that,  so  far  as  any  one  ranked  as  chief  of  the 
little  tribe,  he  assumed  that  honor,  came  readily  for- 
ward ;  and,  after  a  minute's  survey,  at  Nolan's  invita- 
tion he  dismounted,  and  did  due  honor  to  a  draught 
of  raw  West  Indian  rum  which  Nolan  offered  him  in 
one  of  the  silver  cups  which  he  took  from  the  table. 
But,  when  Nolan  addressed  him  in  some  gibberish 
which  he  said  the  Caddoes  would  understand,  the 
chief  intimated  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  meant. 
He  did  this  by  holding  his  hand  before  his  face  with 
the  palm  outward,  and  shaking  it  to  and  fro. 

Nolan  was  a  connoisseur  in  Indian  dialects,  and 
tried  successively  three  or  four  different  jargons;  but 
the  chief  made  the  sign  of  dissent  to  each,  and  inti- 
mated that  he  was  a  Lipan.  Nolan  had  tried  him  in 
the  dialects  of  the  Adeyes,  the  Natchez,  and  the 
Caddoes,  with  which  he  himself  was  sufficiently 
familiar. 

"  Lipan !  "  he  said  aloud  to  his  friends.  "  What 
devil  has  sent  the  Lipans  so  far  out  of  their  way?  " 

With  the  other,  he  dropped  the  effort  to  speak  in 
articulate  language,  and  fell  into  a  graceful  and  rapid 
pantomime,  which  the  chief  immediately  understood, 
which  Harrod  followed  with  interest,  and  sometimes 
joined  in,  and  in  which  two  or  three  other  lesser  chiefs, 
still  sitting  on  their  horses,  took  their  part  as  well. 

Nothing  could  be  more  curious  than  this  silent, 
rapid,  and  animated  colloquy.  Inez  and  Eunice 
looked  from  face  to  face,  wholly  unable  to  follow  the 


70  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

play  of  the  conversation,  but  certain  that  to  all  the 
interlocutors  it  was  entirely  intelligible.  To  all  the 
tribes  west  of  the  river,  indeed,  there  was  this  com- 
mon language  of  pantomime,  intelligible  to  all,  though 
their  dialects  were  of  wholly  distinct  families  of  lan- 
guage. It  still  subsists  among  the  southern  Indians 
of  the  plains,  and  is  perhaps  intelligible  to  all  the 
tribes  on  this  side  the  Rocky  Mountains.1 

Hands,  arms,  and  fingers  were  kept  in  rapid  move- 
ment as  the  colloquy  went  on.  The  men  bent  for- 
ward and  back,  from  right  to  left,  now  used  the  right 
arm,  now  the  left,  seemed  to  describe  figures  in  the 
air,  or  tapped  with  one  hand  upon  the  other.  An 
open  hand  seemed  to  mean  one  thing,  a  closed  hand 
another.  The  forefinger  was  pointed  to  one  eye,  or 
to  the  forehead,  or  to  the  ear,  now  to  the  sun,  now  to 
the  earth.  All  the  fingers  of  one  hand  would  be  set 
in  rapid  motion,  while  the  other  hand  indicated,  as 
occasion  might  require,  the  earth,  the  sky,  a  lake,  or 
a  river. 

The  whole  group  of  whites  and  negroes  on  the 
one  hand,  and  of  "  redskins  "  on  the  other,  joined  in 
a  circle  about  the  five  principal  conversers.  Harrod's 
party  had  some  slight  understanding  of  the  language, 
and  occasionally  gave  some  slight  interpretation  to 
their  companions  as  to  what  was  going  on.  All  the 
Indians  understood  it  in  full,  and,  by  grunts  and 

1  The  fullest  account  of  this  language  of  pantomime  is  probably 
from  Philip  Nolan's  own  pen.  It  is  preserved  in  the  Sixth  Volume  of 
the  Transactions  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society,  and  is  the 
most  considerable  literary  work  known  to  me  by  this  accomplished 
young  man. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  71 

sighs,  expressed  their  concurrence  in  the  sentiments 
of  their  leaders. 

The  interest  reached  its  height,  when  Nolan  took 
the  right  hand  of  the  savage  chief,  passed  it  under  his 
hunting-shirt  and  the  flannel  beneath  it,  so  that  it 
rested  on  the  naked  heart.  Both  smiled  as  if  with 
pleasure ;  and  after  an  instant,  by  a  reversal  of  the 
manoeuvre,  Nolan  placed  his  hand  on  the  heart  of 
the  Indian.  Here  was  an  indication,  from  each  to 
the  other,  that  each  heart  beat  true. 

After  this  ceremony,  Nolan  called  one  of  the  scouts 
from  Harrod's  party,  and  bade  him  bring  a  jug  from 
their  own  stores,  Then  turning  to  Eunice,  he  said,  — 

"  Pray  let  all  the  redskin  chiefs  drink  from  your 
silver.  I  had  a  meaning  in  using  this  cup  when  I 
*  treated '  Long-Tail  here.  And  now  none  of  them 
must  feel  that  we  hold  ourselves  above  them.  Perhaps 
they  do  not  know  that  silver  rates  higher  than  horn 
in  the  white  men's  calendar,  but  perhaps  they  do." 

Eunice  had  caught  the  idea  already.  She  had 
placed  five  silver  cups  on  a  silver  salver,  and  so  soon 
as  the  liquor  arrived  gave  them  to  the  scout  to  fill. 
The  chiefs,  if  they  were  chiefs,  grunted  their  satis- 
faction. Nolan  then,  with  a  very  royal  air,  passed 
down  their  whole  line,  and  gave  to  each  a  bright  red 
ribbon.  It  was  clear  enough  that  most  of  them  had 
never  seen  such  finery.  The  distribution  of  it  was 
welcomed  much  as  it  would  have  been  by  children ; 
and  after  a  general  grunt,  expressive  of  their  satisfac- 
tion, the  chief  resumed  his  seat  on  horseback,  and 
the  party  took  up  its  line  of  march  again. 

"  I  asked  them  where  they  were  going,  and  they 


72  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

lied ;  I  asked  them  where  they  came  from,  and  they 
lied,"  said  Nolan  a  little  anxiously,  as  he  resumed  his 
own  place  by  the  out-spread  blanket,  which  was  serv- 
ing for  a  tablecloth  on  the  ground. 

"They  are  hunting  Panis,"  said  Harrod;  "and 
they  did  not  want  to  say  so,  because  they  supposed 
we  were  Spaniards.  But  I  never  knew  Lipans  so  far 
down  on  this  trail  before." 

"  No,"  said  Nolan :  "  I  have  never  met  Lipans  but 
once  or  twice,  —  you  know  when." 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  show  them  what  was 
in  your  heart." 

Nolan  laughed,  and  turned  to  the  ladies. 

"  You  would  like  to  know  what  is  in  my  heart,  Miss 
Inez,  would  you  not?  How  gladly  would  I  know 
what  is  in  yours  !  To  say  truth,  like  most  of  us,  I 
was  not  quite  ready  for  the  exposure ;  and  perhaps 
these  rascals  knew  a  little  more  than  is  best  for  them. 
'  A  little  knowledge  is  a  dangerous  thing/  " 

"What  are  you  talking  about?  "  said  Inez.  "I 
hate  riddles,  unless  I  can  guess  them." 

Nolan  produced  from  a  secret  fold  in  his  pouch  a 
little  convex  mirror,  highly  polished,  with  long  cords 
attached  to  it. 

"  The  memory  of  man  does  not  tell  how  long  ago 
it  was  that  one  of  the  French  chiefs  tied  such  a  mirror 
as  this  on  his  heart.  Then,  in  a  palaver  with  a  red- 
skin, monsieur  said  he  would  show  him  what  was  in 
his  heart,  stripped  his  breast,  bade  '  Screaming  Eagle  ' 
look,  and,  lo  !  '  Screaming  Eagle '  himself  was  there. 
The  '  One-Horned  Buffalo '  looked,  and  lo  !  '  One- 
Horned  Buffalo '  was  there." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  73 

"  Lucky  they  knew  themselves  by  sight,"  said 
Eunice. 

"  I  have  often  thought  of  that.  They  would  not 
have  known  their  own  eyes  and  nose  and  mouth. 
But  they  did  know  their  feathers,  their  war-paint,  and 
the  rest;  and  from  that  moment  he  enjoyed  immense 
renown  with  them. 

"  Nor  do  I  count  it  a  lie,"  said  Nolan,  after  a  pause. 
"  What  is  all  language  but  signs,  just  such  as  we  have 
all  been  using?  Here  was  a  sign  carefully  wrought 
out,  like  the  '  totem/  or  star  of  the  '  Golden  Fleece/ 
which,  according  to  Ransom,  the  king  will  give  to 
your  father,  Miss  Inez. 

"  I  am  sure  I  have  them  all  in  my  heart.  I  am 
very  fond  of  them,  and  I  wish  them  well  so  long  as 
they  are  not  scalping  me ;  and,  when  I  am  far 
enough  from  trading-houses,  I  do  not  scruple  to  use 
the  glass  on  my  heart,  as  the  best  symbol  by  which 
I  can  say  so." 

As  they  resumed  the  saddle,  Inez  begged  her 
friends  to  tell  her  more  of  this  beautiful  language  of 
signs. 

"  It  is  twenty  times  as  graceful  as  the  pantomime 
of  the  ballet  troupe/'  said  she. 

"  They  all  understand  it,"  said  Nolan,  "  at  least  as 
far  as  I  have  ever  gone.  Harrod  will  tell  you  how  it 
served  us  once  on  the  Neches." 

"  It  is  quickly  learned,"  said  Harrod,  not  entering 
on  the  anecdote.  "  Indeed,  it  is  simple,  as  these 
people  are.  See  here,"  said  he  eagerly:  "  this  is 
Water!' 

And  he  dropped  his  rein,  brought  both  his  hands 


74  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

into  the  shape  of  a  bowl,  and  lifted  them  to  his  mouth, 
without,  however,  touching  it. 

"Now,  this  is  Ram"  he  added;  and  he  repeated 
the  same  sign,  lifting  his  hands  a  little  higher,  and 
then  suddenly  turned  his  fingers  outward,  and  shook 
them  rapidly  to  represent  the  falling  of  water. 

"  Snow  is  the  same  thing,"  he  said,  "  only  I  must 
end  with  white.  This  is  white ;  "  and  with  the  fingers 
of  his  right  hand  he  rubbed  on  that  part  of  the  palm 
of  the  left  which  unites  the  thumb  with  the  fingers. 

"Why  is  that  white?"  said  Inez,  repeating  the 
movement. 

"  Look  in  old  Caesar's  hand,  and  you  will  see,"  said 
Harrod. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  see ;  how  bright  it  all  is  !  But,  Mr. 
Harrod,  how  do  you  say  go,  and  come  ?  where  do  the 
verbs  come  in?" 

"This  is  go?  said  he;  and  he  stretched  his  right 
hand  out  slowly,  with  the  back  upward.  "  Here  is 
come;"  and  he  moved  his  right  finger  from  right  to 
left,  with  a  staccato  movement,  in  which  the  ladies 
instantly  recognized  the  steps  of  a  man  walking. 

Harrod  was  perhaps  hardly  such  a  proficient  in 
this  pantomime  as  was  Nolan,  to  whom  he  often 
turned  when  Inez  asked  for  some  phrase  more 
abstract  than  was  the  common  habit  of  the  "  bread- 
and-butter  "  talk  of  the  frontier.  But  the  two  gentle- 
men together  were  more  than  competent  to  interpret 
to  her  whatever  she  asked  for ;  and,  when  at  last  she 
began  a  game  of  whispering  to  Nolan  what  he  should 
repeat  to  Harrod,  the  precision  and  fulness  of  the 
interpretation  were  as  surprising  as  amusing. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  75 

"  But  you  have  not  told  us,"  said  Eunice  in  the 
midst  of  this,  "  what  you  said  to  the  Learned  Buffalo, 
if  that  was  his  name,  and  what  he  said  to  you,  in  all 
your  genuflexions  and  posturings." 

"  Oh !  I  told  you  what  they  said,  or  that  it  was 
mostly  lies.  They  said  they  had  lost  some  horses, 
and  had  come  all  this  way  to  look  for  them.  That  is 
what  an  Indian  always  tells  you  when  he  is  on  some 
enterprise  he  wants  to  conceal.  He  said  it  was  four- 
teen days  since  he  had  seen  any  of  his  white  brethren. 
That  was  a  lie.  He  stopped  at  Augustine  last  night, 
and  stole  that  cow-bell  that  was  on  the  black  mule. 
He  said  his  people  had  been  fighting  with  the 
Comanches,  and  took  thirty-two  scalps.  That  was  a 
lie.  I  heard  all  about  it  from  a  Caddo  chief  last 
week.  The  Comanches  whipped  them,  and  they  were 
glad  to  get  away  with  the  scalps  they  wore." 

"  The  language  of  pantomime  seems  made  to  con- 
ceal thought,"  said  Inez. 

"  Oh  !  he  tells  some  truth.  He  says  the  Spaniards 
have  a  new  company  of  artillery  at  San  Antonio. 
He  says  your  aunt  was  out  riding  on  the  first  day  of 
October :  you  can  ask  her  if  that  was  true,  when  you 
see  her.  He  says  she  had  with  her  a  calash  with  two 
wheels,  in  which  sat  a  black  woman  who  held  a  baby 
with  a  blue  ribbon.  I  ought  to  have  told  you  this 
first  of  all ;  but  this  galimatias  of  his  about  the 
Comanches  put  it  out  of  my  head." 

Inez  turned  to  him  almost  sadly. 

"  Captain  Nolan,  how  can  you  tell  me  this  non- 
sense? Fun  is  well  enough,  but  you  were  so  serious 
that  you  really  cheated  me.  I  do  not  like  it.  I  do 


j6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

not  think  you  are  fair."  And  in  an  instant  more  the 
girl  would  be  shedding  tears. 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  Miss  Inez !  "  cried  the  good  fel- 
low, "  I  know  when  to  fool,  and  when  not.  I  have 
told  you  nothing  but  what  the  man  said  to  me. 
Blackburn  !  "  and  he  beckoned  to  one  of  the  mounted 
men  who  had  accompanied  Harrod,  "  you  saw  this 
redskin,  you  know  his  signs.  Miss  Perry  thinks  I 
must  have  mistaken  his  news  from  San  Antonio." 

The  man  was  a  rough  fellow  in  his  dress,  but  his 
manner  was  courteous,  with  the  courtesy  of  the 
frontier.  "  He  said,  miss,  that  they  left  San  Antonio 
when  the  moon  had  passed  its  third  quarter  three 
days.  He  said  that,  the  day  before  he  came  away,  a 
new  company  came  up  from  below,  with  big  guns,  — 
guns  on  carts,  he  called  them,  miss.  He  said  that 
same  afternoon,  the  officer  in  command  rode  out 
horseback,  mum,  and  a  lady  with  him ;  and  that  a 
cart  with  a  kiver  over  it  went  behind,  with  a  black 
hoss,  miss.  He  said  there  was  a  nigger-woman  in  the 
kivered  cart,  an'  she  had  a  white  baby,  V  the  baby 
had  a  blue  ribbon  round  her  head.  I  believe  that 
was  all." 

The  man  fell  back,  as  he  saw  he  was  no  longer 
wanted ;  and  Inez  gave  her  hand  very  prettily  and 
frankly  to  Nolan,  and  said,  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  captain :  I  was  very  unjust  to 
you.  But  this  seemed  impossible." 

Harrod  was  greatly  pleased  with  this  passage,  in  its 
quiet  testimony  to  his  leader's  accomplishment,  though 
it  was  an  accomplishment  so  far  out  of  the  common 
course.  Nolan  had  not  referred  to  him  because  he 


or,  Show  your  Passports  77 

had  heard  the  interpretation  which  Inez  had  chal- 
lenged. The  talk  went  on  enthusiastically  about  the 
pantomime  language ;  and  the  young  men  vied  with 
each  other  in  training  the  ladies  to  its  manipulations, 
so  far  as  these  were  possible  to  people  pinioned  in 
their  saddles. 

"  You  can  say  anything  in  it,"  cried  Inez. 

"  I  don't  see  that,"  said  Eunice.  "  You  can  say 
anything  a  savage  wants  to  say." 

"  You  cannot  say  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence," said  Harrod. 

"  Nor  the  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard,"  said 
Nolan. 

And  so  the  day  wore  pleasantly  by,  till,  as  they 
came  to  the  ferry  where  they  were  to  cross  the 
Sabine,  Nolan  confessed  he  had  kept  in  company  to 
the  last  moment  possible,  and  bade  them,  "  for  a  few 
days  at  most,"  he  said,  farewell. 

He  left,  as  an  escort,  Harrod  and  the  three  scouts 
who  had  joined  with  him.  Harrod  was  willing  to 
appear  as  Monsieur  Philippe,  and  the  others  were  to 
meet  the  Spanish  challenge  as  best  they  could.  It 
might  be,  Nolan  said,  that  he  should  have  joined 
again  before  they  had  to  pass  inspection  once  more. 


78  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   SAN  ANTONIO   ROAD 

"  I  called  to  the  maid  : 
I  whispered  and  said, 

*  My  pretty  girl,  tell  to  me, 
The  man  on  the  sly     . 
Who  kissed  you  good-by,  — 

Is  he  Frenchman  or  Portugee  ? '  " 

Tom  TatnalPs  Courtship. 

AND  so  Philip  Nolan  bade  his  friends  good-by  for  a 
day  or  two  as  they  all  supposed,  but,  as  it  proved, 
for  a  longer  parting. 

The  escort  of  a  squad  of  Spanish  cavalry,  un- 
expected and  unsatisfactory  as  it  was,  removed  the 
immediate  or  actual  necessity  for  the  presence  of  his 
troop  with  the  little  party  of  Eunice's  retainers. 
None  the  less  did  he  assure  her  that  he  should  rejoin 
the  party  with  his  larger  force,  though  he  did  think  it 
advisable  to  keep  these  out  of  the  sight  of  the  officers 
at  the  Spanish  outposts.  The  outposts  once  passed, 
he  and  his  would  journey  in  one  part  of  the  province 
as  easily  as  in  another. 

To  a  reader  in  our  time,  it  is  difficult  indeed  to 
understand  why  all  this  machinery  of  passports  should 
be  maintained,  or  why  Nolan  should  have  had  any 
anxiety  about  his  welcome.  Such  a  reader  must  learn, 
and  must  remember,  therefore,  that,  under  the  old 
colonial  system  of  Spain,  the  crown  held  its  colonies 
in  the  state  of  separation  which  we  speak  of  some- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  79 

times  as  Japanese  or  Paraguayan,  though  it  be  now 
abandoned  in  both  Japan  and  Paraguay.  On  the 
theory  that  it  was  well  to  maintain  colonies  for  the 
benefit  of  what  was  called  the  metropolis,  that  is, 
the  European  state,  the  people  of  the  Spanish  colo- 
nies were  sternly  forbidden  to  manufacture  any  article 
which  could  be  supplied  from  home.  With  the  same 
view,  all  trade  between  them  and  other  nations  than 
the  metropolis  was  absolutely  forbidden ;  and,  to  pre- 
vent trade,  all  communication  was  forbidden  excepting 
at  certain  specified  ports  of  entry,  and  with  certain 
formal  passes.  At  the  time  with  which  we  have  to 
do,  the  people  of  Mexico,  and  therefore  the  few 
scattered  inhabitants  of  this  region  which  we  now  call 
Texas,  a  part  of  Mexico,  were  not  permitted  to  culti- 
vate flax,  hemp,  saffron,  the  olive,  the  vine,  nor  the 
mulberry;  and  any  communication  between  them 
and  the  French  colony  of  Louisiana,  to  the  east  of 
them,  had  been  strictly  forbidden.  What  the  line 
between  Mexico  and  Louisiana  was,  no  man  could 
certainly  say;  but  it  was  certain  Natchitoches  in 
Louisiana  had  been  a  French  outpost,  while  Nacog- 
doches  in  Texas,  and  San  Antonio,  were  Mexican 
outposts.  The  territory  between  the  Rio  Grande  and 
the  Red  River  had  always  been  claimed,  with  more  or 
less  tenacity,  by  both  crowns. 

That  there  should  be  animosity  between  Mexico 
and  Louisiana  while  one  was  French  and  one  was 
Spanish,  was  natural  enough,  even  if  the  crowns  of 
France  and  Spain  were  united  in  a  family  alliance. 
It  is  not  so  easy  to  see  why  this  animosity  did  not 
vanish  when  Louisiana  became  a  Spanish  province, 


8o  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

as  it  was  in  this  year  1800,  in  which  we  are  tracing 
along  our  party  of  travellers.  And  it  is  certainly 
true  that  a  guarded  trade  was  springing  up  between 
Orleans  and  Natchitoches  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
Mexican  province  on  the  other ;  but  it  is  as  sure  that 
this  trade  was  watched  with  the  utmost  suspicion. 

For  it  involved  the  danger,  as  the  Mexican  author- 
ities saw,  of  a  violation  of  their  fundamental  principle 
of  isolation.  They  doubtless  feared  that  the  silver 
from  their  northern  mines  might  be  a  tempting  bait 
to  the  wild  Anglo-Americans  of  the  Mississippi,  of 
whose  prowess  they  heard  tales  which  would  quite 
confirm  the  boast  that  their  adventurers  were  half 
horse  and  half  alligator.  Trade  with  the  civilized 
Frenchmen,  who  had  a  few  weak  posts  on  the  Missis- 
sippi, might  be  tolerable,  now  that  their  colonists 
were  under  the  flag  of  Spain;  but  who  and  what 
were  these  sons  of  Anak,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Mississippi  River,  who  carried  a  starry  flag  of  their 
own? 

It  must  be  remembered  also,  that,  from  the  moment 
that  the  independence  of  the  United  States  was  secure, 
the  new  settlers  of  the  West  had  determined  that 
they  would  have  a  free  navigation  to  the  sea,  Spain 
or  no  Spain.  They  had  made  many  different  plans 
for  this,  none  of  them  very  secret.  There  were  those 
who  hoped  that  Louisiana  might  become  French 
again,  and  were  willing  to  annex  Kentucky  to  Loui- 
siana as  a  French  province.  There  were  agents 
down  from  the  Canadian  Government,  intimating 
that  King  George  could  get  command  of  a  route 
through  to  the  sea,  and  would  not  the  people  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  81 

Kentucky  and  Tennessee  like  to  join  him?  There 
were  simple  people  who  did  not  care  what  stood  in 
the  way,  but  were  ready  to  march  in  their  might,  and 
sweep  out  of  the  valley  anybody  who  hindered  the 
Kentucky  tobacco  from  finding  its  way  to  the  markets 
of  Europe.  None  of  these  plans  regarded  the  King 
of  Spain,  or  his  hold  of  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi 
River,  with  any  reverence  or  favor. 

Philip  Nolan,  however,  had  made  his  earlier  ex- 
peditions into  Texas  with  the  full  assent  and  approval 
of  the  Spanish  governors  of  Louisiana.  When  he 
came  back,  as  has  been  said,  he  gave  the  governor 
some  handsome  horses  from  the  wild  drove  which  he 
had  collected;  he  received  the  governor's  thanks, 
and  had  no  difficulty  in  getting  leave  to  go  again. 
And  if  Philip  Nolan's  name  had  been  Sancho  Panza 
or  lago  del  Toboso,  and  if  his  birthplace  had  been  in 
Andalusia  or  Leon,  he  might  perhaps  have  gone 
back  and  forth,  with  horses  or  without  them,  for  fifty 
years;  and  this  little  history  would  then  certainly 
never  have  been  written. 

But  his  name  was  not  Sancho  Panza ;  it  was  Philip 
Nolan,  and  his  companions  were  not  Mexican  cattle- 
drivers,  nor  even  young  hidalgos  hanging  about  town 
in  Orleans.  There  were  a  few  young  Kentuckians 
like  Harrod  and  himself;  there  were  Americans  from 
a  dozen  different  States;  and  there  were  but  six 
Spaniards  in  his  whole  party. 

He  seems  to  have  regarded  it  as  a  matter  of  indif- 
ference where  this  party  made  its  rendezvous.  As 
he  had  the  permission  of  the  Spanish  governor  to 
trade,  it  certainly  should  have  made  no  difference. 

6 


8 2  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

But,  in  fact,  his  men  made  their  rendezvous  and  were 
recruited  at  Natchez,  within  the  United  States  terri- 
tory, —  a  town  of  which  the  Spaniards  had  but  lately 
given  up  the  possession  to  the  American  authorities, 
and  that  only  after  much  angry  talk,  and  in  very  bad 
blood.  That  a  party  of  twenty-one  young  adven- 
turers, under  the  lead  of  an  American  as  popular  and 
distinguished  as  Philip  Nolan,  should  cross  west  into 
Mexico  from  Natchez,  —  this  was,  it  may  be  supposed, 
what  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  military  officers  in 
command  in  Northern  Mexico.  The  local  jealousy 
between  them  and  the  officials  of  their  own  king  in 
Orleans  came  in  also  to  help  the  prejudice  with 
which  the  young  American  was  regarded. 

Nolan  rode  away  with  one  of  the  men  in  buckskin 
who  had  joined  with  Harrod,  throwing  a  kiss  to  Inez 
with  that  mixture  of  mock  gallantry  and  real  feeling 
which  might  have  been  traced  in  all  their  intercourse 
with  each  other.  "An  revoir"  cried  she  to  him; 
and  he  answered,  "  Au  revoir"  and  was  gone. 

"We  shall  miss  him  sadly,"  said  Eunice,  after  a 
moment's  silence ;  "  and  I  cannot  bear  to  have  him 
speak  with  anxiety  of  his  expedition.  He  has  staked 
too  much  in  it  to  be  disappointed." 

The  travellers  followed  on  their  whole  route  what 
was  even  then  known  as  the  Old  San  Antonio  Road, 
—  a  road  which  followed  the  trail  made  by  the  first 
adventurers  as  early  as  1715.  It  was  not  and  is  not, 
by  any  means,  as  straight  as  the  track  of  a  bee  or  a 
carrier-pigeon;  and  it  was  after  they  had  had  the 
experience  of  four  nights  under  canvas  that  they 
approached  the  Spanish  post  of  Nacogdoches. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  83 

The  conversation  had  again  fallen  on  the  probable 
danger  or  safety  of  Nolan's  party. 

William  Harrod  said  what  was  quite  true,  —  that 
Nolan  would  never  be  anxious  for  a  moment  about 
his  own  risks ;  but  he  was  too  loyal  to  these  young 
men  who  had  enlisted  with  him,  to  lead  them  into 
danger  of  which  he  had  not  given  warning. 

"  For  himself  he  has  no  fear,"  said  Inez. 

"  Nor  ever  had/'  was  Harrod's  reply.  "  Why,  Miss 
Inez,  I  was  with  him  once  when  a  party  of  Apaches 
ought  to  have  frightened  us  out  of  our  wits,  if  we 
had  had  any.  I  dare  not  tell  you  how  many  there 
were,  but  the  boys  said  there  were  five  hundred; 
and,  if  they  had  said  five  thousand,  I  would  not  have 
contradicted  them;  and  we  poor  white-skins,  we 
were  but  fourteen  all  told.  And  there  was  Master 
Nolan  as  cool  as  a  winter  morning.  He  was  here,  he 
was  there.  I  can  see  him  now,  asking  one  of  our 
faint-hearted  fellows  for  a  plug  of  tobacco,  just  that 
he  might  say  something  pleasant  to  the  poor  fright- 
ened dog,  and  cheer  him  up.  He  was  in  his  element 
till  it  was  all  over." 

"  And  how  was  it  over?"  said  Inez.  "  Did  you 
have  to  fight  them?" 

"  Yes,  and  no.  We  did  not  get  off  without  firing 
a  good  many  shots  before  that  day  was  over;  and  if, 
whenever  we  come  to  dance  with  each  other,  Miss 
Inez,  you  ever  find  that  my  bridle  arm  here  is  the 
least  bit  stiff,  why,  it  is  because  of  a  flint-headed 
arrow  one  of  those  rascals  put  through  it  that  day. 
But  Master  Phil  outgeneralled  them  in  the  end." 

"How?" 


84  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

"  Oh !  it  was  a  simple  enough  piece  of  border 
strategy.  He  brought  us  down  to  a  shallow  place  in 
the  river,  not  commanded,  you  know,  by  any  bluffs 
or  high  land;  and  here,  with  great  difficulty,  we 
crossed,  and  got  our  wild  horses  across,  and  all  our 
packs,  and  went  into  camp,  with  pickets  out,  and  so 
on.  And  then  at  midnight  he  waked  every  man  of 
us  from  sleep,  took  us  all  back  under  a  sky  as  dark 
as  Egypt,  marched  us  full  five  miles  back  on  the  trail 
where  they  had  been  hunting  us ;  and,  while  my  red 
brethren  were  watching  and  waiting  to  cut  our  throats 
at  daybreak,  —  having  crossed  the  river  to  lie  in  wait 
for  us  as  soon  as  we  started,  —  why,  we  were  '  over 
the  hills  and  far  away.' 

"  I  don't  think  the  captain  likes  the  Apaches,"  he 
said  grimly,  as  he  finished  his  little  story. 

"  But  he  can  be  very  kind  with  the  Indians.  How 
pleasant  it  was  to  see  him  talking  with  those  — 
Lipans,  did  you  call  them?" 

"  Oh,  yes  !  and  they  know  him  and  they  fear  him, 
and  so  far  as  it  is  in  savage  nature  they  love  him. 
Far  and  wide  you  will  hear  them  tell  these  stories  of 
the  Captain  of  the  Longknives  —  that  is  what  they  call 
him;  for  they  have  seen  him  twenty  times  oftener 
than  they  have  seen  any  other  officer,  Spanish,  French, 
or  American.  Twenty  times?  They  have  seen  him 
a  hundred  times  as  often." 

"  For  he  has  done  good  service  to  the  Spanish 
crown,"  said  Eunice,  joining  again  in  the  conversa- 
tion. "  Though  these  Spanish  gentlemen  choose  to 
be  suspicious,  the  captain  has  been  their  loyal  friend. 
The  Baron  Carondelet  trusted  him  implicitly,  and 


or,  Show  your  Passports  85 

Governor  Gayoso  either  feared  him  or  loved  him. 
This  is  certain,  —  that  the  captain  has  done  for  them 
all  that  he  ever  said  he  would  do,  and  much  more." 

"  You  say  '  Spanish  and  American/  "  said  Inez, 
laughing.  "  And,  now  that  he  is  the  confidential 
agent  of  General  Bonaparte,  you  must  say  '  French ' 
as  well." 

"  You  remind  me,"  said  William  Harrod,  "  to  ask 
what  I  am  to  say  if  our  Spanish  friends  at  the  fort 
yonder  should  wish  to  parlez-vous  a  little.  The  cap- 
tain would  give  them  as  good  as  they  sent,  or  better. 
But  poor  I  —  when  I  have  said  'Bon  jour!  '  '  Com- 
ment vous  portez-vous?  '  and  '  Je  n'entends  pas,1  —  I 
have  come  to  the  end  of  my  vocabulary.  What  in 
the  world  shall  I  do?" 

"  You  must  have  a  toothache/'  said  Inez,  laughing 
as  usual. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Eunice.  "The  confidential  agent 
is  a  diplomatist ;  and  this  for  a  diplomatist  is  a  very 
large  stock  in  trade.  Let  me  try. 

"  I  will  be  Captain  Alfonso  Almonte,  Acting  Major 
Commandant  of  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty's  Presidio 
and  Fort  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bleeding  Heart  on  the 
Green  River  of  the  West.  One  of  my  pickets  brings 
in,  in  honorable  captivity,  the  Senora  Eunice  Perry 
of  Orleans,  with  the  Senorita  Inez  Perry  of  the  same 
city,  and  a  mixed  company  of  black,  white,  and  gray, 
including  three  men  in  buckskin,  and  M.  Philippe, 
the  confidential  officer  of  First  Consul  Bonaparte, 
major-general  commanding. 

"  Well,  all  the  others  prove  to  be  just  what  they 
should  be,  —  amiable,  charming  travellers,  and  only 


86  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

too  loyal  in  their  enthusiasm  for  His  Most  Catholic 
Majesty,  King  Charles  the  Fourth.  After  I  have 
sent  them  all  to  feast  from  silver  and  gold,  then  I 
turn  to  you,  M.  Philippe,  and  I  say,  — 

"  '  When  did  you  leave  Paris,  monsieur?  '  " 

Harrod  entered  into  the  joke,  and  replied  bravely, — 

"  I  say,  '  Bon  jour ! '  " 

"  Do  you?  Well,  then,  I  say,  '  Good-day.  I  hope 
I  see  you  very  well ;  and  may  heaven  preserve  your 
life  for  many  years  ! ' 

"  What  do  you  say  now?" 

"  If  you  would  say  that  in  nice  homespun  English," 
said  Harrod,  "  I  would  say,  'The  same  to  you.  Long 
life  and  many  years  to  you.  Suppose  we  have  some- 
thing to  drink.'  " 

"No ;  you  must  not  say  that  to  a  major  command- 
ant :  it  is  not  etiquette.  Besides,  he  does  not  speak 
in  English:  he  speaks  in  French.  What  do  you 
say?" 

"  I  think  the  best  thing  I  could  say  would  be,  '  Je 
n'entends  pas.'  See.  I  would  put  up  my  hand,  so, 
as  if  I  did  not  quite  catch  his  Excellency's  meaning; 
and  then,  very  cautiously,  and  a  little  as  if  I  would 
deprecate  his  anger,  I  would  say,  'Je  n'entends 
pas.' " 

"  But  this  is  mere  cowardice.  You  only  postpone 
the  irrevocable  moment.  I  should  speak  a  great  deal 
louder.  I  should  scream  and  say,  '  Bon  jour !  Dieu 
te  b^nisse !  Quel  heureux  hasard  vous  a  conduit 
dans  ce  pays?  '  I  should  say  this  with  the  last  scream 
of  my  lungs.  And  you?  " 

"  Why,  I  think  I  would  then  say,  '  Comment  vous 


or,  Show  your  Passports  87 

portez-vous,  monsieur?  '  Perhaps  it  would  be  better 
to  say  that  at  the  beginning." 

"  Well,  we  shall  soon  find  out,"  said  Eunice ;  "  for 
here  is  the  picket,  and  there  is  the  challenge." 

Sure  enough :  as  they  approached  the  adobe  build- 
ings of  the  fort,  a  trooper  rode  out,  sufficiently  well 
equipped  to  show  that  he  was  in  the  royal  service, 
and  asked,  "  Who  goes  there?  " 

Ransom  was  ready  for  him,  and  had  learned  this 
time  that  civility  was  the  best  policy.  The  corporal 
of  the  Spanish  escort  rode  forward,  and  exchanged 
a  word  or  two  with  the  sentry  of  the  garrison,  who 
threw  up  his  lance  in  salute,  and  they  all  filed  by. 
A  Mexican  woman  at  work  making  cakes  looked  up, 
and  smiled  a  pretty  welcome.  She  was  "  grinding  in 
a  mill."  That  means  that  she  had  two  stones,  one 
somewhat  concave,  and  the  other,  so  to  speak,  a 
gigantic  pestle,  which  filled  or  fitted  into  the  cavity. 
Into  the  cavity  she  dipped  in  corn,  which  had  been 
already  hulled  by  the  use  of  lye ;  and  with  the  stone 
she  ground  it  into  an  impalpable  paste.  Had  the 
ladies  stayed  long  enough  to  watch  this  new  form  of 
household  duties,  they  would  have  seen  her  form 
with  her  hands  and  bake  the  tortilla,  with  which  they 
were  destined  to  be  better  acquainted.  As  it  was, 
they  paused  but  a  moment,  as  the  cortege  filed  by. 
But  they  had  seen  enough  to  know  that  they  were 
indeed  in  a  foreign  country,  and  that  now  they  were 
to  begin  to  see  the  customs  and  hear  the  language  of 
the  subjects  of  their  unknown  king. 

Orleans,  after  all,  was  a  pure  French  city;  and  till 
now  none  of  this  party,  excepting  Harrod,  had  any 


88  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

real  experience  of  Mexican  life.  Nacogdoches  was 
not  even  a  town,  though  the  rudiments  of  a  civil 
settlement  were  beginning  to  appear  around  the 
garrison.  The  party  were  halted  until  their  differ- 
ent passes  could  be  examined ;  but  the  news  of  the 
arrival  of  such  a  cortege  had,  of  course,  run  like  wild- 
fire through  the  post.  In  a  very  few  minutes  Don 
Sebastian  Rodriguez,  the  commandant,  had  come 
forward  in  person,  bareheaded,  to  tender  his  respects 
to  the  ladies,  and  to  beg  them  to  leave  the  saddle. 
He  introduced  Colonel  Trevino,  the  officer  of  the  day, 
who  said  his  wife  begged  them  to  honor  her  by 
accepting  her  poor  hospitality,  and  trusted  that  they 
would  feel  at  home  in  her  quarters. 

The  uniform  of  the  "  officer  of  the  day"  was  quite 
different  from  the  uniform  of  any  Spanish  officers 
whom  Inez  had  ever  seen  before ;  for  Nacogdoches, 
like  the  rest  of  Mexico,  was  under  the  rule  of  the 
Council  for  the  Indies,  while  Orleans  was  governed 
directly  by  the  Crown.  This  gentleman  had  such  a 
coat  and  waistcoat  as  the  ladies  had  seen  in  pictures 
of  a  generation  before.  He  had  on  boots  which 
resembled  a  little  an  Indian's  leggings  gartered  up, 
so  soft  and  pliable  was  the  leather.  His  coat  and 
vest  were  blue  and  red,  so  that  the  costume  did  not 
lack  for  brilliancy;  but  the  whole  aspect,  to  the  man, 
was  of  efficiency.  His  costume  certainly  met  the  old 
definition  of  a  gentleman's  dress,  for  there  was  no 
question  but  he  could  "  mount  and  ride  for  his  life." 

He  sent  a  negro  back  to  call  his  wife,  and  stepped 
forward  eagerly  to  lift  Inez  from  her  saddle,  while 
Don  Sebastian  rendered  the  same  service  to  Eunice. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  89 

The  lady  sent  for  came  forward  shyly,  but  with 
great  courtesy  to  meet  the  ladies,  and  was  evidently 
immensely  relieved  when  Eunice  with  cordiality 
addressed  her  in  Spanish.  For  the  word  had  been 
through  the  station,  that  a  party  of  Americans  had 
arrived ;  and  there  was  some  terror,  mixed  with  much 
curiosity,  as  one  and  another  of  the  natives  met  the 
strangers.  When  Eunice  spoke  to  the  Donna  Maria 
Trevino  in  Spanish  rather  better  than  her  own, 
the  shadow  of  this  terror  passed  from  her  face,  and, 
indeed,  Colonel  Trevino's  face  took  on  a  different 
expression. 

In  far  less  time  than  people  who  call  in  carriages 
and  keep  lists  of  visitors  can  conceive,  the  three 
women  were  perfectly  at  home  with  one  another. 
In  less  than  five  minutes  appeared  a  little  collation, 
consisting  of  chocolate  and  wine  and  fruit,  and,  as 
the  Senora  Trevino  with  some  pride  pointed  out,  a 
cup  of  tea.  Neither  Eunice  nor  Inez  implied,  by 
look  or  tone,  that  this  luxury  was  not  an  extreme 
rarity  to"  them.  To  have  said  that  tea  had  been 
served  by  Ransom  morning  and  night  at  every  rest- 
ing-place, ancl  at  every  bivouac,  since  they  left  Orleans, 
would  have  done  no  good,  and  certainly  would  not 
have  been  kind. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  outer  room,  which  served  the  pur- 
pose of  an  office  for  Colonel  Trevino,  this  function- 
ary and  Harrod  were  passing  through  an  examination 
none  the  less  severe  that  it  was  couched  with  all  the 
forms  of  courtesy.  But  with  the  colonel,  as  with  his 
lady,  the  Castilian  language  worked  a  spell  to  which 
even  the  wax  and  red  tape  of  the  Governor  Casa 


90  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

Calvo  were  not  equal.  Nor  was  any  curiosity  ex- 
pressed because  Monsieur  Philippe  did  not  speak  in 
French.  And  when,  after  this  interview,  the  colonel 
and  Harrod  joined  the  ladies,  as  they  did,  Ransom 
having  respectfully  withdrawn  under  the  pretext  of 
seeing  personally  to  the  horses  of  the  party,  Inez 
was  greatly  amused  to  see  the  diplomatic  agent, 
Monsieur  Philippe,  and  the  colonel  commanding,  Don 
Francesco  Treviflo,  talking  Spanish  together  with  the 
ease  and  regard  of  old  companions  in  arms. 

Harrod  said  afterward  that  a  common  danger  made 
even  rabbits  and  wolves  to  be  friends.  "And  my 
friend  the  colonel  was  so  much  afraid  of  this  redoubt- 
able filibuster  '  Nolano/  with  his  hundreds  of  giant 
'  Kentuckians/  that  when  he  found  a  meek  and  humble 
Frenchman  like  me,  with  never  a  smack  of  English 
on  my  tongue,  he  was  eager  to  kiss  and  be  friends/' 

The  conversation,  indeed,  had  not  been  very  unlike 
that  which  they  had  but  just  now  rehearsed  in  jest. 
Ransom,  with  perfect  civility  this  time,  had  explained 
that  these  were  Spanish  ladies  with  their  servants, 
travelling  to  San  Antonio,  on  a  visit  to  their  relations. 
The  name  of  Barelo,  his  brother  officer,  was  enough 
to  command  the  respect  of  Colonel  Trevino,  who  was 
only  too  voluble  in  expressing  the  hope  that  his 
pickets  and  sentries  had  been  civil. 

"  In  truth, "  he  said,  "  we  have  been  cautious,  per- 
haps too  cautious.  But  no,  a  servant  of  the  king  is 
never  too  cautious ;  a  soldier  is  never  too  cautious. 
But  we  have  received  now  one,  two,  three  alarms, 
that  the  Americans  are  to  attack  us.  We  do  not 
know  if  there  is  peace,  we  do  not  know  if  there  is 


or,  Show  your  Passports  91 

war ;  but  we  do  not  love  republics,  we  soldiers  of  the 
king.  And  if  my  men  had  taken  you  for  the  party 
of  Nolano,  —  well,  well  —  it  is  well  —  that  there  were 
ladies  was  itself  your  protection.  The  filibusters  do 
not  bring  with  them  ladies."  1 

Harrod  was  troubled  to  find  that  Nolan's  reputa- 
tion on  the  frontier  was  so  bad,  and  felt  at  once  that 
his  chief  had  not  rated  at  the  full  the  perils  of  his 
position,  when  he  ascribed  them  merely  to  a  differ- 
ence between  Orleans  Spaniards  and  Spaniards  of 
Texas.  Of  course  the  young  man  let  no  sign  escape 
him  which  should  show  that  he  was  interested  in 
Nolan  or  his  filibusters.  He  was  only  hoping  that 
Blackburn  and  the  other  men  outside  might  be  as 
prudent.  In  a  moment  more  the  colonel  said,  with 
some  embarrassment,  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  that  I  addressed  you  in  the 
Castilian.  I  see  from  Captain  Morales's  pass  that  you 
are  a  French  gentleman.  We  forget  that  our  friends 
in  Orleans  yonder  do  not  all  use  our  language." 

Harrod  laughed  good-naturedly,  and,  speaking  in 
the  Castilian  as  before,  said, — 

"  It  is  indeed  a  pleasure  to  me  to  speak  in  the 
Spanish  when  I  am  permitted.  As  the  language  is 
more  convenient  to  the  ladies,  let  us  retain  it,  if  you 
please." 

1  This  word  "  filibusters,"  originally  the  English  word  "  free- 
booters," and  as  such  familiarly  used  on  the  coast  of  Mexico  and  the 
Spanish  main,  had  degenerated  on  Spanish  tongues  into  the  word 
"  filibustier."  It  was  familiarly  used  for  an  invader  who  came  for 
plunder,  whether  he  crossed  the  frontier  by  land  or  by  sea.  It  has 
passed  back  into  our  language  without  regaining  its  original  spelling 
and  pronunciation. 


9 2  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

The  colonel  had  been  about  to  say  that  he  would 
call  a  lieutenant  upon  his  staff,  who  spoke  the  French 
more  freely  than  he  did;  but  the  readiness  of  the 
French  gentleman  saved  him  from  this  necessity; 
and,  with  relief  only  next  to  that  which  he  had  shown 
when  he  found  he  was  not  talking  to  the  dreaded 
Nolan,  he  entered  into  free  conversation  in  his  own 
tongue.  In  this  language  Harrod  had  for  many 
years  been  quite  at  home. 

The  colonel  finished  his  examination  of  the  elab- 
orate pass  furnished  by  Casa  Calvo,  intimated  that 
he  would  prepare  a  more  formal  document  than  that 
given  in  the  saddle  by  Captain  Morales,  and  then, 
having  made  himself  sure  that  the  little  collation  was 
prepared,  proposed  that  they  should  join  the  ladies. 

The  ladies  felt,  as  Harrod  had  done,  that  a  single 
word  even  of  English  might  prejudice  the  cordiality 
of  their  reception.  Even  old  Ransom  had  made  this 
out,  by  that  divine  instinct  or  tact  which  was  an 
essential  part  of  his  make-up ;  and  when  he  came 
for  orders,  so  called,  from  the  ladies,  even  if  he 
whispered  to  them  and  they  to  him,  it  was  always 
in  the  Spanish  language.  Indeed,  Inez  said  after- 
ward, that,  when  he  chose  to  swear  at  the  muleteers, 
it  was  in  oaths  of  the  purest  Castilian. 

As  he  left  the  room  for  the  first  time,  Harrod 
called  him  back,  and  whispered  to  him  also.  This  was 
to  bid  him  tell  Blackburn,  and  the  others  of  his  im- 
mediate command,  that,  as  they  loved  Captain  Nolan, 
they  were  not  to  speak  in  English,  either  to  Harrod 
or  to  one  another,  while  they  were  in  Nacogdoches. 
They  were  to  remember  that  they  were  all  French 


or,  Show  your  Passports  93 

hunters,  and,  if  they  did  not  speak  French,  they 
must  speak  Choctavv, — an  alternative  which  all  three 
accepted. 

"  Let  me  present  to  you,  my  dear  wife,  Monsieur 
Philippe,  the  gentleman  who  accompanies  these 
ladies,  —  a  French  gentleman,  my  dear.'1 

Harrod  bowed  with  all  the  elegance  of  Paris  and 
Kentucky  united. 

"  I  have  been  explaining,  ladies,  to  your  friends 
the  causes  of  these  preparations  of  war,  —  the  over- 
sight of  passports  and  the  challenge  of  travellers,  so 
unusual,  and  so  foreign  to  hospitality  in  the  time  of 
peace ;  if,  indeed,  this  be  peace.  May  God  bless  us  ! 
Only  he  knows  and  the  Blessed  Virgin." 

" Is  it,  then,  a  time  of  war?"  asked  Eunice, — 
"  and  with  whom?" 

"The  good  God  knows,  sefiora:  if  only  I  were 
equally  fortunate !  Whether  our  gracious  master, 
the  good  King  Charles  IV.,  is  not  at  this  moment  in 
war  with  this  great  General  Bonaparte,"  —  and  he 
bowed,  with  a  droll  and  sad  effort  at  civility,  toward 
"  Monsieur  Philippe,"  as  if  that  gentleman  were  him- 
self the  young  Corsican  adventurer,  "  —  or  whether 
these  wild  republicans  of  the  American  States  have 
not  made  war  upon  us,  the  good  God — may  he  bless 
us  all !  —  and  the  Holy  Mother  know;  but  I  do  not" 

"  Surely  I  can  relieve  your  anxiety,  colonel,"  said 
Eunice,  in  her  most  confiding  manner.  "  We  are  not 
yet  a  fortnight  from  Orleans,  and  we  had  then  news 
only  nine  weeks  from  Europe.  So  far  from  war,  the 
First  Consul  was  cementing  peace  with  our  august 
king.  I  shall  have  pleasure  in  showing  you  a  French 


94  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

gazette  which  makes  us  certain  of  that  happy 
intelligence.  Then,  from  our  neighbors  of  the 
American  States  there  were  no  news  but  such  as 
were  most  peaceful." 

"But  your  ladyship  does  not  understand,"  said 
Colonel  Trevifio,  hoping  that  she  might  not  see  how 
much  he  was  relieved  by  the  intelligence,  —  "your 
ladyship  does  not,  cannot,  understand  the  anxieties 
of  a  command  like  ours.  It  is  not  the  published  war, 
it  is  not  the  campaigns  which  can  be  told  in  gazettes, 
and  proclaimed  by  heralds,  which  we  soldiers  dread." 
Again  with  an  approving  glance  at  Monsieur  Philippe, 
as  if  he  were  Bonaparte  in  person.  "  It  is  the  secret 
plots,  the  war  in  disguise.  This  Nolano  will  not  send 
word  in  advance  that  he  is  coming." 

Inez  started,  in  spite  of  herself,  as  she  heard  the 
name  ;  and  then  she  could  have  punished  herself  by 
whatever  torture  for  her  lack  of  self-control.  She 
need  not  have  been  distressed.  The  Colonel  Trevifio 
did  not  suspect  a  girl  of  seventeen  of  caring  any 
more  for  what  he  said,  than  the  cat  who  was  purring 
in  the  Donna  TreVino's  arms. 

"  This  Nolano  will  not  send  word  in  advance  that 
he  is  coming.  He  will  swoop  down  on  us  with  his 
giants,  as  a  troop  of  buffalo  swoops  down  upon  a 
drinking-pond  in  yonder  prairie.  And  he  must  re- 
turn,—  yes,  may  the  Holy  Lady  grant  it!  God  be 
blessed  !  —  he  must  return  as  a  flock  of  antelopes  return 
when  they  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  hunters." 

The  colonel  was  well  pleased  with  this  bit  of 
rhetoric.  Eunice,  meanwhile,  had  not  changed  glance 
nor  color. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  95 

"Who  is  this  Nolano  of  whom  you  speak?  Is  he 
an  officer  of  General  Bonaparte?  "  % 

"  Grace  of  God !  No,  madame !  He  is  one  of 
these  Americans  of  the  North,  who  propose  to  march 
from  their  cold,  wintry  recesses  to  capture  the  city  of 
Mexico;  to  take  the  silver-mines  of  our  king,  and 
divide  them  for  their  spoil.  Our  advices,  madam, 
are  not  so  distinct  as  I  could  wish ;  but  we  know 
enough  to  be  sure  that  this  man  has  recruited  an 
army  in  the  east,  and,  if  the  way  opens,  will  attack  us." 

"  Impossible,"  said  Eunice  bravely,  "  that  he  should 
have  recruited  an  army,  and  the  Marquis  of  Casa 
Calvo  know  nothing  of  it!  Impossible  that  the  mar- 
quis should  permit  me  and  this  lady  to  travel  in  a 
country  so  soon  to  be  the  scene  of  war !  " 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  senora,"  persisted  the  other. 
"  We  speak  under  the  rose  here.  Let  it  be  con- 
fessed that  the  Marquis  of  Casa  Calvo  is  not  so  young 
as  he  was  forty  years  ago,  nor  so  sharp-sighted.  Our 
sovereign  places  him,  perhaps,  at  Orleans;  let  us 
say  —  yes,  may  the  Holy  Mother  preserve  us!  —  be- 
cause that  is  not  the  place  of  action  and  of  arms. 
For  us,  —  why,  we  have  seen  Philippo  Nolano,  and 
that  within  two  years." 

Poor  Inez  !  She  did  not  dare  to  glance  at  Harrod ; 
but  she  longed  to  strike  an  attitude  rivalling  the  colo- 
nel's and  to  say, — 

"  And  we  have  seen  Philippo  Nolano,  and  that 
within  two  days." 

But  the  position,  though  it  had  its  ludicrous  side, 
was  of  course  sufficiently  critical  to  keep  them  all 
seriously  watchful  of  word  and  glance  alike. 


96  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Eunice  seriously,  "  how  was  this? 
and  what  manner  of  man  is  he?  What  do  you  say 
his  name  is?" 

"His  name  is  Nolano,  my  lady;  his  baptismal 
name,  if  these  heretics  have  any  baptism,  is  Philippo: 
may  the  Saint  Philippo  pardon  me,  and  preserve  us ! 
Do  we  know  him?  Why,  he  made  his  home  in  this 
very  presidio  of  Nacogdoches,  and  that  not  two  years 
ago.  My  lady,  he  has  sat  in  that  chair,  he  has  drunk 
from  this  cup.  To  think  that  such  treason  should 
lurk  in  these  walls,  and  study  out  in  advance  our 
defences ! " 

At  this  point  the  little  lady  of  the  group  took 
courage. 

"  My  dear  husband,"  said  the  Senora  Trevino,  "  let 
us  admit  that  we  were  very  glad  to  see  him.  —  In- 
deed, ladies,  he  is  a  most  agreeable  person,  though 
he  be  an  American  of  the  North,  and  a  filibuster. 
He  was  here  for  some  time ;  and  he  knew  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Americans  so  well,  that  in  all  business 
he  served  my  husband  and  the  other  officers  here  as 
an  interpreter.  There  were  some  Americans  arrested 
for  illicit  trade,  —  silver,  you  know,"  and  she  dropped 
her  voice,  —  "  two  men,  with  a  hard  name ;  but  I 
learned  it,  so  often  did  I  hear  it.  There  was  a  pro- 
cess about  these  men :  Eastridge  was  their  name. 
Oh  !  it  lasted  for  months ;  and  often  was  your  name- 
sake Don  Philippo  in  the  chair  you  sat  in,  Monsieur 
Philippo ;  he  was  discussing  their  business  with  my 
husband — " 

"  And  playing  chess  with  my  wife,"  said  the  colonel, 
interrupting  her.  "Ah.  he  was  a  very  cunning  sol- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  97 

dier,  was  your  Don !  There  is  no  secret  of  our  de- 
fences but  is  known  to  him ;  and  now  he  comes  with 
an  army." 

"Surely,"  said  Eunice  as  bravely  as  before,  "you 
do  not  speak  of  the  Captain  Nolan  who  was  so  near 
a  friend  of  the  Baron  Carondelet.  Why,  he  was  pre- 
sented to  me  by  the  Baron  himself  at  a  ball." 

Colonel  TreVifio  confessed  that  Nolan  brought  him 
letters  at  one  time  from  the  Baron. 

"And  my  brother  has  dined  with  him  at  General 
Gayoso's  palace.  Oh  !  it  is  impossible  that  this  per- 
son can  lead  an  American  army." 

"  Ladies,"  said  the  colonel,  clasping  his  hands,  "  a 
soldier  must  believe  nothing,  and  he  must  believe 
everything  also.  May  all  the  saints  preserve  us !  " 

And  Eunice  felt  that  she  had  pressed  the  defence 
of  her  friend  as  far  as  was  safe,  or  to  his  advantage. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    DRESSED    DAY 

"A  visit  should  be  of  three  days'  length:  i.  The  Rest 
Day.  2.  The  Dressed  Day.  3.  The  Pressed  Day."  — Miss 
FERRIER. 

THE  respect  due  to  a  reception  so  courteous  as  that 
with  which  the  Colonels  Trevino  and  Rodriguez  wel- 
comed the  party,  compelled  a  stay  in  Nacogdoches 
over  one  full  day.  In  truth,  Philip  Nolan  had  advised 
a  stay  so  long,  and  had  told  the  ladies  that  he  had  a 
thousand  ways  of  informing  himself  at  what  moment 

r 


9g  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

they  should  leave  the  fort  to  proceed  westward.  The 
morning  of  the  day  after  the  arrival  of  the  ladies  was 
spent  in  a  prolonged  breakfast,  in  which  the  senora 
did  her  best  to  show  her  guests  that  the  resources  of 
a  military  post  were  not  contemptible.  And  indeed 
she  succeeded  When  she  had  made  it  certain  that 
they  were  not  too  much  fatigued  by  their  five  days 
ride  from  the  river,  she  took  order  to  assemble  at 
supper  all  the  officers  of  the  command  and  their 
wives ;  and  the  preparations  for  this  little  fete  filled 
the  colonel's  quarters  with  noisy  bustle,  quite  unusual, 
through  the  morning. 

In  the  midst  of  this  domestic  turmoil,  —  not  so  dif- 
ferent, after  all,  from  what  Eunice  and  Inez  had  seen 
on  the  plantation,  when  Silas  Perry  had  brought  up 
an  unexpected  company  of  guests,  —  a  new  turmoil 
broke  out  in  the  square,  and  called  most  of  the  occu- 
pants of  the  house  out  upon  the  arcade  which  fronted 
it.  The  Lady  Tr6vino  was  not  too  dignified  to  join 
the  groups  of  curious  inquirers ;  and  she  did  not  return 
at  once  to  her  guests. 

Ransom  did  come  in,  under  the  pretence  of  asking 
if  they  needed  anything,  but  really  because  there 
was  news  to  tell.  He  satisfied  himself  that  in  this 
dark  inner  room  there  were  no  eavesdroppers,  and 
that  those  heavy  stone  walls  had  no  ears ;  and  then 
he  indulged  himself,  though  in  a  low  tone,  in  the 
forbidden  luxury  of  the  vernacular. 

"  Pray  what  is  it,  Ransom?"  asked  Inez,  speaking 
always  in  Spanish. 

"  All  nonsense/'  said  the  old  man,  — "  all  non- 
sense :  told  'em  so  myself,  but  they  would  not  hear 


or,  Show  your  Passports  99 

to  me.  Spanishers  and  niggers  all  on  'em,  nothin' 
but  Greasers :  don't  know  nothin',  told  'em  so  —  all 
nonsense." 

Then  after  a  pause :  — 

"  White  gal  'z  old  as  you  be,  Een :  "  this  was  his 
shorthand  way  of  saying  "  Miss  Inez,"  when  he 
was  off  guard. 

"  White  gal  dressed  jest  like  them  Injen  women  ye 
see  down  on  the  levy.  They  catched  her  up  here 
among  the  Injens,  and  brought  her  away.  She 
can't  speak  nothin'  but  Injen,  and  they  don't  know 
what  she  says.  They  brought  her  down  from  up 
there  among  the  Injens  where  they  catched  her. 
She  's  dressed  jest  like  them  Injen  women  ye  see 
on  the  levy;  but  she's  a  white  gal  —  old  as  you 
be,  Een." 

Inez  knew  by  long  experience  that  when  one 
of  Ransom's  speeches  had  thus  balanced  itself  by 
repetition  backward  to  the  beginning,  —  as  a  musical 
air  returns  to  the  keynote,  —  she  might  put  in  a 
question  without  disturbing  him, 

"Who  found  her,  Ransom?  Who  brought  her 
in?" 

"  Squad  o'  them  soldiers ;  call  'em  soldiers,  ain't 
soldiers,  none  on  'em:  ain't  one  on  'em  can  stand  the 
Choctaw  Injens  two  minutes.  Was  ten  on  'em  goin' 
along,  and  had  a  priest  with  'em,  —  'n  they  met  a  lot 
o'  Injens  half-starved,  they  said.  Men  was  clean 
lost,  —  had  n't  got  no  arrows,  and  could  n't  git 
no  game.  Did  n't  b'long  here :  got  down  here  'n 
got  lost;  didn't  know  nothin'.  Injens  had  this 
white  gal,  —  white  as  you  be,  Een,  —  'n  the  priest 


i  oo  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

said  he  would  n't  gin  'em  nothin'  ef  they  would  n't 
let  him  have  the  white  gal.  They  did  n't  want  to, 
but  he  made  'em,  he  did ;  said  they  should  not 
have  nothin'  ef  they  would  n't  let  him  have  the 
white  gal.  White  as  you  be  she  is,  Miss  Eunice." 

Inez  was  all  excited  by  this  time,  and  begged 
her  aunt  to  join  the  party  in  the  arcade,  —  which 
they  did. 

True  enough,  just  under  the  gallery,  was  this  tall 
wild  girl,  of  singularly  clear  brunette  complexion, 
but  of  features  utterly  distinct  from  those  of  an 
Indian  squaw.  Eunice  and  Inez,  indeed,  both  felt 
that  the  girl  was  not  of  Spanish,  but  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  or  Scotch-Irish  blood,  though,  in  the  un- 
popularity of  their  own  lineage  in  Nacogdoches 
neither  of  them  thought  it  best  to  say  so.  Three 
or  four  of  the  Mexican  women  of  the  post  were 
around  the  girl,  some  of  them  examining  her  sav- 
age ornaments,  some  of  them  plying  her  with  tor- 
tillas and  fruit,  and  even  milk,  under  the  impression 
that  she  must  be  hungry.  The  girl  herself  looked 
round,  not  without  curiosity,  and  in  a  dozen  pretty 
ways  showed  that  she  was  not  of  the  same  phleg- 
matic habit  as  her  recent  possessors. 

In  a  few  moments  the  Sefiora  Tr^vino  returned, 
having  given  some  orders  for  the  poor  girl's  comfort, 
the  results  of  which  immediately  appeared. 

But  when  she  called  the  girl  to  her  most  kindly, 
and  when  she  came  under  the  arcade  as  she  was 
beckoned,  the  ladies  could  make  no  progress  in 
communicating  with  her.  She  seemed  to  have  no 
knowledge  of  Spanish,  nor  yet  of  French.  If  she 


or,  Show  your  Passports  101 

had  been  taken  prisoner  from  either  a  Spanish  or 
French  settlement,  it  was  when  she  was  so  young 
that  she  had  forgotten  their  language. 

Inez  tried  her  with  "madre"  and  "  padre;"  the 
Senora  Trevifio  pointed  reverently  to  a  crucifix, 
and  a  Madonna  with  folded  hands.  But  the  girl 
showed  no  other  curiosity  than  for  the  other  articles  of 
taste  or  luxury  —  if  such  simple  adornments  can  be 
called  such. 

"  Still,  Eunice/'  cried  Inez,  "  I  am  sure  she  under- 
stood '  mamma/  Say  €  ma '  to  her  alone." 

Meanwhile  Madame  Trevifio  called  one  and  another 
woman  and  servant  who  had  some  smattering  of  In- 
dian dialects;  but  the  girl  would  smile  good-na- 
turedly, and  could  make  nothing  of  what  they  said. 
But  this  suggested  to  Eunice  that  she  might  beckon 
to  Blackburn  the  hunter,  who  was  lounging  in  the 
group  in  front;  and  in  a  whisper  she  bade  him 
address  the  girl  in  the  Choctaw  dialect 

This  language  was  wholly  distinct  from  any  of  the 
dialects  of  the  west  of  the  Mississippi  —  as  these,  in- 
deed, changed  completely,  even  between  tribes  whose 
hunting-grounds  were  almost  the  same. 

Blackburn  did  as  he  was  bidden,  but  without  the 
least  success ;  but  in  a  moment  he  fell  back  on  the 
gift  of  silence,  and  began  in  the  wonderful  panto- 
mime, which  the  ladies  had  already  seen  so  success- 
ful between  Nolan  and  the  Lipan  chief. 

The  girl  smiled  most  intelligently,  nodded  assent, 
and  in  the  most  vivid,  rapid,  and  active  gesture  en- 
tered on  a  long  narration,  if  it  may  be  called  so,  of 
her  life  with  the  Indians.  Blackburn  sometimes  had 


IO2  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

to  bid  her  be  more  slow,  and  repeat  herself.  But 
it  was  clear  enough  that  they  were  both  on  what  he 
would  have  called  the  right  trail,  and  he  was  coming 
to  a  full  history  of  her  adventures. 

But  a  new  difficulty  arose  when  Blackburn  was  to 
interpret  what  he  had  learned.  He  made  a  clumsy 
effort  in  a  few  words  of  bread-and-butter  Spanish, 
such  as  all  Western  men  picked  up  in  the  groceries 
and  taverns  at  Natchez.  But  this  language  was  very 
incompetent  for  what  he  had  to  tell.  Still  the  good 
fellow  knew  that  he  must  not  speak  English  in  the 
presence  of  these  Greasers;  and  he  bravely  strug- 
gled on  in  a  Spanish  which  was  as  unintelligible  as 
his  Choctaw. 

In  the  midst  of  this  confusion  Ransom  came  to  the 
front,  and  addressed  him  boldly,  — 

"Est-ce-que  vous  ne  parlez  Francais  bien,  mon 
camarade?  Then  speak  hog  English,  but  I  '11  tell 
'em  it 's  Dutch.  Say  parlez-vous  at  the  beginning, 
and  oui,  monsieur,  at  the  end." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  Senora  Trevino,  and  bowed 
with  a  smile,  and  told  her  that  the  man  was  a  poor 
ignorant  dog  from  Flanders,  who  had  been  in  the 
woods  as  a  hunter  ever  since  he  came  abroad  as  a 
boy ;  that  he  spoke  very  little  French,  and  that  very 
badly;  but  that  he,  Ransom,  had  seen  him  so  much 
that  he  could  understand  him. 

Then  he  turned  to  Blackburn :  — 

"N'oubliez  pas,  mon  ami,  —  don't  forget  a  word  I 
tell  you.  Pepper  it  well,  and  don't  git  us  hanged  for 
nothin*.  Ensuite  —  tout  ensemble  —  oui,  monsieur." 

"  Oui,  monsieur,  vraiment,"  said  Blackburn  bravely. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  103 

"  The  gal  don't  remember  when  she  did  not  live  with 
the  redskins,  sacrement !  parbleu !  mon  Dieu  !  But 
she  does  not  remember  her  own  mother,  who  died 
ten  years  ago.  Parlez-vous  Francais,  Saint  Denis ! 
Since  then  she  has  lived  as  they  all  live.  Comment, 
monsieur.  She  says  she  wants  to  go  to  the  East, 
that  her  mother  bade  her  go  there.  Morbleu  !  sacre- 
ment !  oui,  monsieur.  She  says  the  redskins  was  n't 
kind  to  her,  and  was  n't  hard  on  her,  but  did  n't  give 
her  enough  to  eat,  and  made  her  walk  when  her  feet 
was  sore.  Mere  de  Dieu,  sacrement!  Saint  Denis  — 
bon  jour ! " 

It  was  clear  enough  that  poor  Blackburn's  French 
had  been  mostly  picked  up  among  the  voyagers  on 
the  river,  and  alas !  from  their  profane,  rather  than 
their  ethical  or  aesthetic  moments.  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  to  the  Senora  Trevino  the  poor 
smattering  would  not  have  betrayed  rather  than 
helped  the  poor  fellow,  but  that  her  sympathies  were 
so  wholly  engrossed  by  the  condition  of  the  captive 
that  she  cared  little  by  what  means  her  story  was 
interpreted. 

In  a  moment  more,  Ransom  had  explained  it  in 
voluble  Spanish. 

"  Ask  him  for  her  name,  Ransom ;  ask  if  she  knew 
her  mother's  name;  ask  him  how  old  she  is,"  cried 
Inez  eagerly. 

"  She  says  the  Indians  call  her  the  White  Hawk, 
but  that  her  mother  called  her  Mary,  and  bade  her 
never  forget,"  said  the  old  man,  really  wiping  his 
eyes.  "  She  says  she  is  sixteen  summers  old." 

Inez  seized  the  girl's  hand,  and  said  "  Marie/'  of 


1 04  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

which  she  made  nothing;  but  when  the  girl  said 
squarely  "Mary/'  "  Mary,"  and  then  said  "  Ma  " — 
"Ma" — "Ma,"  the  poor  captive's  face  flushed  for 
the  first  time;  and  she  seized  both  Inez's  hands, 
repeated  all  these  syllables  after  her,  and  broke  into 
a  flood  of  tears. 

"  Ma-ry,"  said  Eunice  slowly  to  the  Senora  T  re- 
vine  :  "  it  is  the  way  they  pronounce  Marie  in  the 
eastern  provinces." 

In  a  moment  more  appeared  the  portly  and  cheer- 
ful Father  Andres,  who  had  by  good  fortune  accom- 
panied the  foraging  party  which  had  brought  in 
this  waif  from  the  forest.  To  his  presence  with  the 
soldiers,  indeed,  it  is  probable  that  she  owed  her 
redemption. 

Ransom's  story  was  substantially  correct.  This 
was  a  little  band  of  Apaches,  who  had  by  an  accident 
been  cut  off  from  the  principal  company  of  their 
tribe,  and  by  a  series  of  misfortunes  had  lost  their 
horses  and  most  of  their  weapons.  They  were  loath 
to  throw  themselves  on  Spanish  hospitality,  and  well 
they  might  be.  Still,  when  the  troopers  had  struck 
their  trail  and  overtaken  them,  the  savages  were  in 
great  destitution  and  well-nigh  starving.  They  were 
out  of  their  own  region,  were  trying  to  return  to  it  on 
foot,  and  were  living  as  they  might  on  such  rabbits 
as  they  could  snare,  and  such  wild  fruits  as  they 
could  find.  Father  Andres,  with  a  broader  humanity, 
had  agreed  to  give  a  broken-down  mule  and  a  quar- 
ter of  venison  as  a  ransom  for  the  girl;  and  both 
parties  had  been  well  satisfied  with  the  exchange. 

For  the  girl   herself,  —  she  was   tall,  graceful   in 


or,  Show  your  Passports  105 

movement,  eminently  handsome,  with  features  of 
perfect  regularity,  eyes  large  and  black,  and  with  her 
head  fairly  burdened  with  the  luxuriant  masses  of 
hair,  which  were  gathered  up  with  some  savage  or- 
nament, but  insisted  upon  curling  in  a  most  un-Indian- 
like  way.  There  was  a  singular  unconsciousness  in 
her  demeanor,  like  that  of  an  animal.  Inez  said  she 
never  knew  that  you  were  looking  at  her.  Once  and 
again,  in  this  little  first  interview,  she  started  to  her 
feet,  and  stood  erect  and  animated,  with  an  eagerness 
which  the  Spanish  women  around  her,  or  their  Indian 
servants,  never  showed,  and  could  not  understand. 
Perhaps  she  never  seemed  so  attractive  as  in  these 
animated  pantomimes  in  which  she  answered  their 
questions,  or  explained  the  detail  of  her  past 
history. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  Father  Andre's,  Harrod 
returned  from  riding  with  the  officers.  He  explained 
to  Donna  Isabella  that  he  had  acquired  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  Indian  pantomime  in  his  hunting  expedi- 
tions. By  striking  out  one  superfluous  interpreter 
from  the  chain,  he  gave  simplicity  and  animation  to 
the  stranger's  narrative. 

She  remembered  perfectly  well  many  things  that 
her  mother  had  told  her,  though  she  showed  only 
the  slightest  knowledge  of  her  mother's  language. 
But,  on  this  point,  Harrod  and  the  ladies  from 
Orleans  were  determined  to  try  her  more  fully  when 
they  were  alone.  The  village,  whatever  it  was,  of  her 
birthplace,  had  been  fortified  against  savages;  but  a 
powerful  tribe  had  attacked  it,  and,  after  long  fighting, 
the  whites  had  surrendered.  But  what  was  surren- 


106  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

der  to  such  a  horde?  So  soon  as  they  had  laid  down 
their  weapons,  the  Indians  had  slaughtered  every  man, 
and  every  boy  large  enough  to  carry  arms.  Next 
they  had  killed  for  convenience'  sake  every  child  not 
big  enough  to  travel  with  them  in  their  rapid  retreat. 
The  women  they  had  kept,  and  if  any  woman  chose 
to  keep  her  baby  the  whim  was  indulged.  Such  a 
baby  was  this  "  Ma-ry,"  —  the  White  Hawk  just  now 
rescued.  Her  mother  had  clung  to  her  in  every  trial. 
Long,  long  before  the  White  Hawk  could  remember 
anything,  she  and  her  mother  had  been  sold  to  some 
other  tribe,  which  took  them  far  from  other  captives 
of  their  own  race.  With  this  tribe  —  who  were 
Apaches  of  Western  Texas  —  she  had  lived  ever 
since  she  could  remember.  She  had  always  heard  of 
whites.  She  had  always  known  she  was  one  of  them. 
But  she  had  never  seen  a  white  man  till  yesterday. 

"  And,  now  you  are  with  us,  you  will  stay  with  us/' 
said  Donna  Isabella  eagerly. 

The  girl  did  not  so  much  as  notice  her  appeal ;  for 
she  happened  to  be  looking  on  one  of  the  thousand 
marvels  around  her,  so  that  she  did  not  catch  the 
eagerness  of  the  Spanish  lady's  eye,  and  she  under- 
stood not  a  syllable  of  her  language.  Harrod  touched 
her  gently,  and  repeated  the  appeal  to  her  in  a  pan- 
tomime which  the  others  could  partly  follow. 

Then  the  White  Hawk  smiled,  —  oh!  so  prettily, 
—  and  replied  in  a  pantomime  which  they  could  not 
follow;  but  she  placed  her  hand  in  Donna  Isabella's, 
in  Eunice's,  and  in  Inez's,  in  rapid  succession,  just 
pausing  long  enough  before  each  to  give  the  assur- 
ance of  loyalty. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  107 

"  She  says  that  she  promised  her  mother  every 
night,  before  she  slept,  that  she  would  go  to  her  own 
people,  —  the  whites.  Whenever  she  can  go  to  the 
rising  sun  to  find  them,  she  must  go.  But  she  says 
she  is  sure  you  three  will  be  true  to  her,  and  that  she 
will  be  true  to  you.  She  says  she  must  find  her 
mother's  brothers  and  sisters,  and  she  says  you  must 
be  her  guides." 

Inez's  eyes  were  brimming  with  tears. 

"  Can  we  find  them,  Monsieur  Philippe?  How  can 
we  find  them?  Where  was  this  massacre,  and  when?11 

The  Spanish  officers  shrugged  their  shoulders  at 
this,  and  said  that,  alas !  there  was  only  too  much  of 
such  cruelty  all  along  the  frontier.  The  story,  Harrod 
said,  was  like  that  of  the  massacre  at  Fort  Loudon, 
but  that  was  too  long  ago.  The  truth  was,  that  for 
seventy  years,  from  the  time  when  the  Indians  of 
Natchez  sacrificed  the  French  garrison  there,  down 
to  that  moment,  such  carnage  had  been  everywhere. 
Harrod  told  the  ladies  afterward  that  in  only  seven 
years,  about  the  time  of  which  the  White  Hawk 
spoke,  fifteen  hundred  of  the  people  of  Kentucky 
had  been  killed  or  taken  prisoners,  and  as  many 
more  on  the  Ohio  River  above  Kentucky.  Which 
village  of  a  hundred,  therefore,  was  White  Hawk's 
village,  of  which  mother  of  a  thousand  was  hers,  it 
would  be  hard  to  tell. 

But  Eunice  thought  that  in  that  eye  and  face  she 
saw  the  distinct  sign  of  that  Scotch-Irish  race  which 
carries  with  it,  wherever  it  emigrates,  such  matchless 
beauty  of  color,  whether  for  women  or  for  men.  But 
of  this  to  their  Spanish  friends  she  said  nothing. 


lo8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

So  unusual  a  ripple  in  the  stagnant  life  of  the  gar- 
rison threw  back  the  memory  of  the  arrival  of  the 
ladies  from  Orleans  quite  in  the  distance.  Still,  when 
the  evening  came,  and  the  Donna  Isabella's  guests 
gathered,  it  proved  that  the  several  ladies  of  the  little 
"  society  "  had  not  been  unmindful  of  the  duties  they 
owed  to  fashion.  Most  of  them  were  attired  in  the 
latest  styles  of  Mexico  and  Madrid  which  were  known 
to  them.  Others  relied  boldly  on  the  advices  they 
had  received  from  their  correspondents,  and  wore 
what  they  supposed  the  latest  fashion  of  Europe  out- 
side of  Spain.  All  came,  eager  with  curiosity  to  see 
what  were  the  latest  dates  from  Orleans  and  from 
Paris.  With  some  difficulty,  and  in  the  face  of  many 
protests  from  Ransom,  Eunice  and  Inez  were  able 
to  indulge  them.  It  was  necessary  to  open  some 
packs  which  had  been  put  up  for  San  Antonio,  and 
San  Antonio  only. 

Ransom  said  this  was  impossible.  Eunice  said  it 
must  be  done.  Ransom  said  he  would  not  do  it. 
Eunice  said  that  then  she  should  have  to  do  it  her- 
self. Ransom  then  knew  that  he  had  played  his  last 
card,  went  and  opened  the  packs  in  question,  brought 
them  to  the  ladies,  and  declared  that  it  was  the  easi- 
est thing  in  life  to  do  so,  and  that,  in  fact,  they  ought 
to  be  opened,  because  they  needed  the  air.  For  such 
was  Ransom's  way  when  he  was  met  face  to  face. 

We  ought  to  tell  our  fair  readers  how  these  two 
ladies  were  dressed  on  that  October  evening.  Not  so 
different  in  the  effect  at  a  distance  from  the  costumes 
of  to-day ;  but  the  waists  of  their  frocks  were  very 
close  under  their  arms,  as  if  they  were  the  babies  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  109 

1876  at  the  baptismal  font.  For  the  rest,  the  skirts 
were  scant,  as  Inez's  diary  tells  me,  and  the  trimming 
was  their  glory. 

Would  you  like  to  see  Madame  Fantine's  account 
of  the  dress  which  Inez  wore  that  evening?  It  is, 
"  Coiffure  a  1'hirondelle.  Robe  a  soie  bleue  a  demi 
traine;  la  jupe  garnie  des  paillettes."  Now,  pail- 
lettes were  little  round  steel  spangles. 

There !  Is  not  that  the  loyal  and  frank  way  for 
the  novelist  of  the  nineteenth  century  when  he  has 
his  heroine's  costume  to  describe? 

But  Madame  Fantine  could  not  have  described  the 
White  Hawk's  dress,  —  "  Ma-ry's ;  "  and,  after  all, 
she  was  the  belle  of  the  evening.  The  Donna  Isa- 
bella and  Inez,  principally  Inez,  had  devoted  them- 
selves to  her  toilet  through  the  afternoon.  To  dress 
her  as  a  Christian  woman  had  been  Donna  Isabella's 
first  idea ;  but,  to  say  truth,  Donna  Isabella's  idea  of 
Christianity  was  not  unlike  that  of  the  missionaries 
in  Africa,  whose  first  great  triumph  was  the  persuad- 
ing the  natives  to  bury  their  dead  in  coffins.  If  the 
Donna  Isabella  could  have  seen  the  White  Hawk  in 
a  mantilla  and  long  silk  wrapper,  she  would  have 
been  as  well  satisfied  as  Father  Andres  if  he  could 
place  baptismal  waters  on  her  forehead.  To  such 
costume  White  Hawk  herself  objected.  Could  she 
have  spoken  Hebrew,  she  would  have  said,  with 
Jesse's  son,  "  I  have  not  proved  them."  And  here 
our  pretty  Inez  proved  her  loyal  friend.  How 
charming  it  was  to  see  these  lovely  girls  together! 
No :  White  Hawk  had  come  to  them  in  savage  cos- 
tume, and  so  it  was  best  that  she  should  come  to  the 


no  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

party.  Only  these  feathers  must  be  crisp  and  new ; 
and  the  presidio  was  quite  competent  to  furnish 
crisp,  new  crane's  feathers.  This  doeskin  tunic, — 
yes,  it  did  have  a  bad  smell,  even  Inez  had  to  con- 
fess that;  but  the  quartermaster  produced  a  lovely 
new  doeskin,  at  the  sight  of  which  those  black  eyes 
of  White  Hawk's  flashed  fire ;  and  what  with  Inez's 
needle,  and  Eunice's,  and  the  Mexican  maid  of 
Donna  Isabella,  and  White  Hawk's  own  nimble 
fingers,  every  pretty  fringe,  every  feather,  with  every 
bead  and  every  shell,  from  the  old  wilderness-worn 
dress,  were  transferred  in  an  hour  to  the  new  robe. 
As  for  hair,  as  Inez  said,  there  was  not  a  major's 
wife,  nor  a  captain's,  at  the  party,  but  envied  White 
Hawk  her  magnificent  coiffure. 

For  slippers  —  alias  moccasins  —  they  were  fain 
to  go  to  the  storehouse  of  the  presidio  again,  and 
select  one  of  the  smallest  pair  they  found  there  made 
ready  for  women's  wear.  They  gave  these  to  White 
Hawk,  who  laughed  merrily.  Before  the  "  party  "  be- 
gan, they  were  embroidered  with  the  brightest  colors, 
discovered  only  White  Hawk  knew  where  or  how. 

Thus  apparelled,  White  Hawk  certainly  drew  all 
eyes.  Inez  confessed  that  she  paled  her  ineffectual 
fires.  Her  ivory  fan,  fresh  from  Paris,  did  not  win 
the  homage,  she  said,  which  White  Hawk  won  by 
her  crane's  feathers. 

"  And  what  could  you  expect,"  said  the  enthusi- 
astic girl,  "when  she  has  those  wonderful  cheeks, 
those  blazing  eyes,  and  that  heavenly  smile  ?  Eunice, 
if  you  do  not  take  her  to  Antonio  with  us,  why, 
Eunice,  I  shall  die !  " 


or,  Show  your  Passports  1 1 1 

The  garrison,  at  its  best,  furnished  twelve  ladies  — 
confessed  as  ladies  —  when  there  was  any  such  occa- 
sion for  festivity  as  this  evening.  Of  gentlemen,  as 
at  all  military  posts,  there  was  no  lack.  The  frontier 
garrison  towns  of  Mexico  presented  at  that  time  a 
series  of  curious  contrasts.  Gentlemen  of  the  best 
training  of  Europe,  who  had  perhaps  brought  with 
them  ladies  of  the  highest  culture,  —  as  Governor 
Herrara  had  at  this  very  time, — were  stationed  for 
years,  in  the  discharge  of  the  poor  details  of  frontier 
duty,  in  the  midst  of  the  simplest  and  most  ignorant 
people  in  Christendom.  In  the  same  garrison  would 
be  young  Mexican  gentlemen  in  training  for  the  same 
service,  not  deficient  in  the  external  marks  of  a  gen- 
tleman, but  without  any  other  culture  than  training 
in  the  details  of  tactics.  Between  the  wives  was  a 
broader  contrast,  perhaps,  than  between  the  hus- 
bands. Very  few  Mexican  ladies  of  the  Spanish 
blood,  "  Creoles,"  if  we  may  take  the  expression  of 
the  day,  were  educated  for  any  conversation  with 
intelligent  men,  or  expected  to  bear  a  share  in  it. 
But  such  a  lady  as  Madame  Herrara,  with  whom  the 
persevering  reader  of  these  pages  will  meet,  or  the 
Senora  Maria  Caberairi,  or  the  Senora  Marguerite 
Valois,  accustomed  to  the  usages  of  Europe,  lived  as 
rational  beings;  that  is,  they  received  visits,  and 
discharged  the  duties  of  an  elegant  hospitality.  Such 
a  protest  against  the  Oriental  seclusion,  which  per- 
haps the  Moors  introduced  into  Spanish  life,  whether 
in  Old  Spain  or  in  New  Spain,  met  with  no  favor  from 
the  handsome,  indolent,  and  passive  ladies  who  made 
up  the  majority  of  garrison  society.  And  the  line  was 


1 1  2  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

marked  with  perfect  distinctness,  on  this  occasion, 
between  four  on  the  one  side  and  eight  on  the  other, 
of  the  ladies  who  attended  at  Donna  Isabella's  ball. 

This  contrast  added  greatly  to  the  lively  Inez's  en- 
joyment of  the  evening.  She  had  no  lack  of  good 
partners,  only  too  eager  to  take  her  out  to  the 
minuet.  The  lively  girl  showed  that  she,  at  least, 
had  no  objection  to  talking  to  young  officers,  and 
that  she  had  enough  to  say  to  them. 

"Do  not  disgrace  your  duenna,"  said  Eunice, 
laughing,  as  Inez  left  her  on  one  of  these  campaigns 
of  conquest.  And  Inez  said,  — 

"  Dearest  duenna,  if  I  could  only  use  a  fan  as  well 
as  you  do !  " 

Harrod  said  to  Eunice  that  he  should  find  his 
occupation  gone,  now  that  there  was  a  little  army  of 
Dons  and  hidalgos  only  too  eager  to  take  charge  of 
the  ladies  of  his  convoy.  Indeed,  in  brilliancy  of 
costume,  the  gentlemen  of  the  party  quite  held  their 
own  in  comparison  with  even  the  French  and  Span- 
ish toilets  of  the  ladies.  The  dragoons  wore  a  short 
blue  coat,  with  red  cape  and  cuffs,  with  small-clothes 
of  blue  velvet  always  open  at  the  knee.  Every  gen- 
tleman brought  with  him  a  tall  dress  hat,  such  as 
the  modern  reader  associates  with  banditti  on  the 
stage.  It  was  etiquette  to  bring  this  even  into  the 
ballroom,  because  the  ribbon  of  gay  colors  with 
which  it  was  bound  was  supposed  to  be  a  lady's 
gift  and  a  mark  of  gallantry.  Many  of  the  men  were 
tall  and  handsome,  and  you  would  have  said  thai 
dancing  and  cards  were  the  only  business  of  their  lives 

Although  Inez  had  spent  her  whole  life  in   wha 


or,  Show  your  Passports  1 1  3 

was  called  a  Spanish  colony,  in  a  town  which  thought 
much  of  itself,  while  Nacogdoches  was  but  a  garrison 
post,  she  had  never  seen,  till  now,  any  of  the  peculiar 
forms  of  Spanish  society.  Orleans  held  its  head  very 
high  in  the  social  way,  but  it  was  as  a  French  city. 
The  new  governors  and  their  courts  could  make  no 
head  against  the  proud  Gallicism  of  the  people  they 
found  there;  and  French  travellers  said  with  pride 
that  Spaniards  were  "  Francised"  but  Frenchmen 
were  not  " Espanoled"  in  Orleans. 

The  minuet  was  at  that  moment  the  property  of 
the  world.  The  fandango  and  the  bolero  were  dances 
Inez  had  never  seen  before;  nor  would  she  have 
shed  tears  if  she  had  been  told  she  should  never  see 
them  again.  The  White  Hawk,  who  joined  even 
merrily  in  the  gayeties  of  the  evening,  seemed  hurt 
and  annoyed  at  the  intimacies  of  the  fandango,  and 
showed  that  she  was  glad  when  it  was  over.  None 
of  the  strangers,  indeed,  could  take  part  in  it;  and 
they  observed  that  a  part  of  the  ladies  among  their 
hosts  would  not  take  part  in  it.  Naturally  enough, 
the  talk  turned  on  national  dances,  in  a  circle  of  such 
varied  nationalities.  The  White  Hawk  frankly  and 
simply  performed  an  Apache  pas  seul  for  the  sur- 
prise and  amusement  of  her  hosts,  so  soon  as  she 
found  they  would  take  pleasure  from  it.  And  then, 
after  a  little  conference  with  Donna  Maria  and  her 
husband,  and  a  word  with  Colonel  Rodriguez,  the 
commander  of  the  garrison,  one  of  the  band-men  was 
sent  out  to  bring  in  a  party  of  dancers  from  the 
vulgar  crowd  without,  who  would  show  a  pure  Mex- 
ican dance  to  the  visitors. 

8 


1 14  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

This  was  the  dance  of  the  Matachines,  which  dates 
back  even  to  the  court  of  Montezuma.  A  boy,  gayly 
dressed,  rushed  in  with  his  bride :  these  were  Monte- 
zuma and  Malinche.  The  girl's  rattle  took  the  place 
of  the  castanets  of  the  fandango.  In  an  instant  more 
the  other  dancers,  armed  also  with  rattles,  followed 
in  two  parallel  rows,  soon  breaking  into  four;  and  a 
large  man  with  a  hideous  mask,  —  the  devil  of  the 
scene,  —  whip  in  hand,  ruled  the  pageant.  Nobody 
but  Montezuma  and  Malinche  escaped  his  blows. 

At  times  the  emperor  and  his  bride  sat  in  chairs 
which  were  placed  for  their  thrones,  and  received 
from  the  other  dancers  the  most  humble  protesta- 
tions. 

Friar  Andre's  said  that  the  whole  was  typical  of 
astronomical  truths.  Perhaps  it  was.  I  remember 
Margaret  Fuller  once  told  me,  who  write  these  words, 
what  the  quadrille  called  "  pantalon  "  typified.  If  I 
only  remembered !  That  is  the  figure  where  the 
gentleman  leaves  his  partner  for  a  while  in  captivity 
on  the  other  side. 

Meanwhile  all  the  men  were  not  occupied  in  min- 
uets, in  fandangos,  in  boleros,  or  in  fanning  ladies. 
Parties  of  officers,  not  inconsiderable,  sat  at  cards  in 
the  card-rooms ;  and,  if  one  could  judge  from  their 
cries  now  and  then,  the  play  was  exciting  and  high. 

In  such  amusements  the  "  dressed  day "  came  to 
a  close,  and  it  stole  an  hour  even  from  the  day  of 
departure. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  1 1 5 


CHAPTER  IX 

TALKING  AND   WALKING 

"  Such  noise  as  I  can  make  to  be  heard  farthest  I  '11  ven- 
ture." —  MILTON. 

IT  was  decided  in  solemn  assembly,  the  next  morning, 
that  the  White  Hawk  should  join  the  party  of  travel- 
lers for  San  Antonio.  Dona  Isabella  had  seen  too 
much  of  garrison  life  to  wish  to  keep  the  girl  longer 
than  was  necessary  at  a  post  like  Nacogdoches.  In- 
deed, if  she  ever  were  to  seek  her  birthplace,  it  must 
be  from  such  a  point  as  San  Antonio,  and  not  from  a 
garrison  town.  Eunice  and  Inez  gladly  took  the  care 
of  her ;  and  Colonel  Trevino  formally  prepared  a  new 
passport  which  should  describe  her  and  her  condition 
also. 

"  I  have  added  your  name,  Monsieur  Philippe/'  said 
the  hospitable  colonel.  "  I  see  you  joined  the  party 
after  the  marquis's  pass  was  filled.  Ah  me !  the 
marquis  is  growing  a  little  drowsy,  after  all !  "  and  he 
laughed  with  that  conceit  with  which  a  rival  bureau 
always  detects  errors  in  the  administration  of  the 
establishment  "  over  the  way." 

And  so,  after  every  conceivable  delay,  innumerable 
adioSy  and  commendations  to  the  Virgin,  the  little 
party  started  again.  To  the  last,  Blackburn,  Rich- 
ards, Adams,  and  King  were  taken  for  granted  as 
part  of  the  party.  They  asked  no  questions;  and 
the  colonel,  with  all  his  formalities,  never  asked  them 
where  they  joined  or  where  they  were  to  leave. 


1 1 6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

With  no  prospect  of  other  detention  before  arriving 
at  San  Antonio,  they  all  pushed  out  into  what  was 
very  nearly  desert  country. 

The  afternoon  was  well  advanced,  when  they  made 
the  halt  —  which  with  an  earlier  start  would  have 
been  made  earlier  —  for  a  rest  from  the  saddle,  and 
to  give  the  beasts  a  chance  for  food.  The  ladies  sat 
on  their  shawls  a  little  away  from  the  caravan  proper ; 
and  Harrod,  with  some  help  from  Ransom,  improvised 
a  screen  from  the  wind  by  stretching  his  own  blanket 
above  some  stakes  driven  into  the  ground. 

The  first  care  had  been  to  send  notes  and  messages 
to  Captain  Nolan,  who  was  supposed  to  be  not  far 
away.  These  were  intrusted  to  Blackburn,  and  to  old 
Caesar,  whom  Blackburn  had  persuaded  to  join  him 
for  a  few  days.  After  their  departure  the  encamp- 
ment took  on  an  air  of  tranquil  repose. 

"We  are  as  happy- as  Arabs,"  said  Inez. 

"  As  happy  as  Ma-ry  here  would  be  in  your  father's 
salon  on  the  plantation,"  said  Harrod.  "  Ask  her  if 
she  sees  anything  piquant  or  strange  in  lunching  al 
fresco  here." 

"  Ask  her,"  said  Eunice,  "  what  she  makes  of  Ran- 
som's Boston  crackers,  and  whether  she  would  rather 
have  a  rabbit  a  la  mesquit? 

"  Ah,  well !  "  said  Harrod,  "  the  rarity  of  the  thing 
is  all  very  well ;  but,  when  Miss  Inez  here  has  lunched 
twenty  days  more  al  fresco,  she  will  be  glad  to  find 
herself  in  her  aunt's  inner  chamber  —  " 

"  As  Ma-ry  will,  after  twenty  days  of  the  salon  life, 
to  find  herself  on  a  mustang  horse,  riding  after  ante- 
lopes," said  Inez,  this  time  sadly. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  117 

"  Miss  Inez,  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it." 

"A  word  of  what?" 

"  Of  what  you  are  afraid  of,  —  that  this  girl  has  be- 
come a  child  of  the  forest,  and  is  going  to  love  mus- 
tangs and  antelopes  and  mesquit-bushes  and  grilled 
rabbits,  more  than  she  will  love  books  and  guitars 
and  the  church  and  a  Christian  home.  Blood  is 
a  good  deal  thicker  than  water,  Miss  Inez;  and  blood 
will  tell." 

"  Seventeen  years  go  a  good  way,  Mr.  Harrod ; 
and  she  must  be  as  old  as  I  am,"  said  Inez,  as  if  she 
herself  were  the  person  of  most  experience  in  this 
world. 

"But  seventeen  centuries  go  farther/1  said  he; 
"  and  I  may  say  eighteen,  lacking  two  months,  I 
believe.  Oh,  Miss  Inez !  trust  a  man  who  has  seen 
white  skins,  and  black  skins,  and  red  skins,  and  olive 
skins,  and  skins  so  dirty  that  they  had  no  color. 
Trust  me  who  speak  to  you.  If  the  sins  of  the 
fathers  go  to  the  children  for  the  third  and  fourth 
generation,"  —  there  was  no  banter  in  his  tone  now ; 
but  all  this  was  in  serious  earnest,  —  "  shall  not  the 
virtues  of  the  mothers,  and  their  loves,  and  even  their 
fancies  and  their  tastes?  Shall  not  their  faith  and 
hope,  shall  not  their  prayer,  have  a  hold  deeper  than 
a  little  calico  or  flannel?  Does  not  your  command- 
ment say,  '  through  all  generations  for  those  who  love 
Him?'  and  do  you  not  suppose  that  means  some- 
thing?" 

It  was  the  first  time  Harrod  had  spoken  with  quite 
this  earnestness  of  feeling.  To  Eunice  it  was  not 
unexpected,  however.  She  had  seen,  from  his  first 


1 1 8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

salute  at  the  encampment,  that  he  was  every  inch  a 
man.  To  Inez  there  was  all  the  satisfaction  which 
comes  to  every  girl  of  yesterday  when  some  person 
of  insight  sees  that  she  is  a  woman  to-day.  The 
change  from  boy  to  man  takes  years,  and  is  marked 
by  a  thousand  slow  gradations.  The  change  from 
girl  to  woman  is  well-nigh  immediate.  But  the 
woman  just  born  cannot  scream  out,  "  The  world  is 
all  changed  to  me.  Why  will  you  talk  to  me  as  if  I 
were  playing  with  my  doll?"  All  the  same  is  she 
grateful  to  him  or  her  who  finds  out  this  change; 
and  so  Inez  was  grateful  to  William  Harrod  now. 

"You  see,"  said  Harrod,  "I  was  born  close  to  the 
frontier ;  and  since  I  can  remember  I  have  been  on 
it  and  of  it.  Dear  old  Daniel  Boone  —  have  you  ever 
4  hearn  tell '  of  him,  Miss  Perry?  —  dear  old  Daniel 
Boone,  many  is  the  time  that  he  has  spent  the  weeks 
of  a  winter  storm  and  clearing  at  my  father's ;  and 
many  is  the  tramp  that  I  have  taken  with  him  and 
with  his  sons.  I  fired  his  rifle  before  I  was  ten  years 
old.  Yes ;  and  I  have  seen  this  thing  always.  Why  ! 
when  I  was  a  little  boy  I  have  seen  our  dear  Elder 
Brainerd  take  these  savage  boys,  and  be  good  to  them 
and  helpful,  and  let  them  cheat  him  and  lie  to  him ; 
and  since  then  I  have  seen  them  go  off  like  hawks 
when  they  smelt  carrion.  And  I  have  seen  —  well,  I 
have  seen  Daniel  Boone,  who  had  slept  under  the  sky 
as  they  sleep,  had  starved  as  they  starve,  had  frozen 
as  they  freeze  ;  and  he  would  come  to  my  dear  moth- 
er's table  as  perfect  and  finished  a  gentleman  as  there 
is  in  Orleans  or  Paris.  Dear  Miss  Perry,  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  race,  and  blood  does  tell." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  119 

"And  I  hope  it  tells  in  something  better  than 
choice  of  places  to  lunch  in,"  said  Inez. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  young  fellow,  who  was  on 
one  of  his  hobbies  now.  "  You  shall  see  that  your 
pretty  Ma-ry  will  be  a  lady  of  the  land,  if  you  can 
once  see  her  in  her  land.  As  for  these  Greasers,  I  do 
not  know  that  I  rate  them  as  of  much  more  help  to 
her  than  so  many  Caddoes  or  Apaches.  Oh,  dear ! 
how  I  hate  them !  "  and  he  laughed  heartily. 

"  Pray  do  not  say  so  to  Inez,"  said  her  aunt.  "  You 
do  not  guess  yet  how  hard  I  find  it  to  make  her  loyal 
to  her  sovereign." 

"  Most  estimable  of  duennas,"  cried  Inez,  "  pray 
do  not  say  that  again  for  a  week.  Let  me  mildly 
represent  to  your  grace,  that  your  unsuspected  loyalty 
to  the  most  gracious  of  masters,  and  to  the  loveliest 
of  queens,  has  led  you  to  make  this  protest  daily 
since  her  Majesty's  sacred  birthday — blessed  be  her 
gracious  life  and  her  sweet  memory !  —  recalled  to 
your  loveliness's  recollection  your  duty  to  your  hon- 
ored sovereign.  There,  you  darling  old  tease,  can  I 
not  do  it  as  well  as  you  can?  And  do  not  the  adjec- 
tives and  compliments  roll  out  rather  more  graciously 
in  the  language  of  Squam  Bay  than  even  in  the 
glorious  Castilian  itself?  Oh,  dear !  I  wish  I  could 
set  Ransom  to  translate  one  of  the  Bishop's  prelec- 
tions on  royalty  into  genuine  Yankee." 

"Do  it  yourself,"  said  Harrod,  who  was  rapidly 
gaining  all  Nolan's  enthusiasm  for  the  old  man. 

And  Inez  attempted  a  rapid  imitation. 

"  There,"  said  she,  "  it  is  the  day  of  our  Lady  of 
the  Sacred  Torch ;  and,  by  a  miraculous  coincidence, 


120  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

it  happens  also  to  be  the  day  of  the  Santissima  Luisa, 
the  patron  saint  of  my  beloved,  most  honored,  and 
never-to-be-forgotten  queen  and  sovereign  lady.  And, 
as  the  bishop  rides  to  the  cathedral,  by  a  great  mis- 
fortune the  wheels  of  the  carriage  of  the  most  right 
reverend  and  best-beloved  father  come  off  in  the  fosse 
or  ditch  just  in  front  of  the  palace  of  the  governor  of 
my  most  gracious  sovereign  Charles  the  Fourth,  and 
the  holy  father  is  thrown  forward  into  the  mud." 

"  Inez,  you  shall  not  run  on  so." 

"  Dear  duenna,  hold  your  peace :  I  shall  and  I  will. 
And  all  shall  be  said  decently  and  in  order. 

"  Word  is  carried  of  the  misfortune  to  the  cathe- 
dral, where  Ransom  is  waiting  in  the  sacristy,  with  a 
note  from  Miss  Eunice  Perry,  heretic  though  she  be, 
and  fated  to  be  burned  when  her  time  comes,  invit- 
ing the  most  reverend  and  beloved  father  to  dinner. 
Ransom  observes  the  dangers  to  the  elect,  should  the 
prolocution  in  honor  of  my  gracious  and  never-to-be- 
forgotten  queen  be  omitted.  By  a  happy  instinct  he 
slips  off  his  white  jacket,  and  with  grace  and  ease 
slips  on  the  tunic,  which  seems  to  him  most  to  re- 
semble the  Calvinistic  gown  of  his  childhood ;  and 
then,  preceded  by  acolytes,  and  followed  by  thurifers, 
he  mounts  to  the  pulpit,  just  as  the  faithful  are  turn- 
ing away  disappointed,  and  says,  — 

"'It's  all  nonsense,  'n'  I  told  the  biship  so,  last 
time  I  see  him.  I  says,  says  I,  them  hubs  to  the 
wheels  of  you  coach  ain't  fit  for  nothin',  they  ain't; 
and  ef  you  will  ride  in  it  you  '11  break  down  some  day, 
an'  good  enough  for  you.  'N'  now  he  has  broke 
down,  jest  as  I  told  him  he  would,  'n'  he  can't  preach 


or,  Show  your  Passports  121 

the  queen's  sermon.  I  tell  you  the  queen  ain't  much, 
but  she 's  a  sight  better  than  you  deserve,  any  on  you. 
Ye  ain't  fit  to  have  a  queen,  none  on  ye ;  ye  don't 
know  nothin',  'n'  ye  don't  know  what  a  real  good 
queen  is.  Ye  'd  git  more  'n  ye  've  got  any  rights  to, 
ef  ye  had  old  George  the  Third,  the  beggar;  'n'  he  's 
the  wust  king  that  ever  wos,  or  ever  will  be.  The 
queen's  birthday  is  to-day,  so  they  sez ;  but  they 's 
all  liars,  and  don't  know  nothin1,  as  how  should  they, 
seein'  they's  all  Catholics  and  niggers  together,  and 
ain't  learned  nothin'?  I  tell  the  bishop  they  ain't  no 
good  preachin'  to  such  a  crew  as  you  be ;  but,  becos 
he  can't  come  himself,  I  Ve  come  to  tell  ye  all  ye  may 
go  home.'  " 

"  Inez,  you  shall  not  run  on  so,"  said  Eunice,  really 
provoked  that  the  girl,  who  had  so  much  deep  feeling 
in  her,  should  sweep  into  such  arrant  nonsense. 

"  Dearest  Aunt  Eunice,  you  are  afraid  that  I  shall 
lose  my  reputation  in  the  eyes  of  dear  White  Hawk 
and  of  Mr.  Harrod.  Would  you  perhaps  be  so  kind 
as  to  preach  the  queen's  sermon  yourself?  " 

"  That  is  a  way  she  has,  Mr.  Harrod  ;  and  I  recom- 
mend it  to  you,  if  you  are  ever  so  fortunate  as  to  have 
the  education  of  a  young  lady  of  seventeen  intrusted 
to  you." 

"  This  dear  Aunt  Eunice  of  mine,  who  is  the  love- 
liest and  kindest  duenna  that  ever  was  in  this  world, 
if  I  do  say  so,  she  will  rebuke  me  for  my  sins,  because 
I  do  not  sin  to  please  her ;  and  then  she  will  set  the 
example  of  the  way  the  thing  ought  to  be  done. 

"For  instance:  suppose  I  am  tempted  by  the 
spirit  of  evil  to  imitate  the  Dona  Dulcinea  del 


122  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Tobago,  I  call  her,  because  her  husband,  the  chief 
justice,  smokes  all  day  long;  suppose  I  am  tempted 
to  imitate  her,  —  I  sit  down  at  my  piano-forte,  and  I 
just  begin,  — 

'  Oh,  happy  souls  !  by  death  at  length  set  free, 

when  my  dear  aunt  says,  '  You  shall  not  do  so,  Inez : 
it  is  very  wrong/  And  then  I  begin  again,  and  she 
says,  '  Inez,  it  is  very  improper.'  And  then,  if  I  begin 
a  third  time,  she  says,  '  Inez,  if  you  will  do  anything 
so  absurd,  pray  do  it  correctly.  Let  me  sit  there. 
I  will  show  you  how  she  sings  it;'  and  then  she 
makes  the  Dona  Dulcinea  ten  times  as  absurd  as  I 
could,  because  she  has  heard  her  ten  times  as  often. 
—  You  are  the  dearest  old  aunt  that  ever  was,  and  I 
am  the  worst  tease  that  ever  was  born." 

And  she  flung  herself  on  the  neck  of  her  aunt,  and 
kissed  her  again  and  again. 

Meanwhile  the  White  Hawk  sat  amused  beyond 
expression,  and  mystified  quite  as  much  by  what  was 
to  her  only  a  pantomime,  in  which  she  could  not  make 
out  one  term  in  ten. 

As  Inez  ceased  her  eulogy,  she  looked  around 
upon  the  girl,  and  caught  the  roguish  twinkle  of  her 
eye,  and  could  not  but  turn  to  her,  and  kiss  her  as 
eagerly  as  she  had  kissed  her  aunt,  though  from  a 
sentiment  wholly  different. 

For  both  these  ladies  watched  the  White  Hawk 
with  the  feeling  with  which  you  would  watch  an 
infant,  mingled  with  that  with  which  you  regard  a 
woman.  "  What  does  she  think?  How  does  this  all 
seem  ?  What  would  she  say  if  she  could  speak  to  us  ?  " 


or,  Show  your  Passports  123 

The  range  of  her  pantomime,  and  the  spirit  and 
truth  of  Harrod's  interpretation  of  it,  were  enough  to 
express  things,  and  to  make  them  feel,  just  up  to  a 
certain  point,  that  here  was  a  woman  closely  tied  to 
them,  sympathizing  with  them,  as  they,  indeed,  with 
her.  But  where  things  stopped,  and  ideas  began, — 
just  where  they  wanted  language  most,  —  language 
stopped  for  them,  and  White  Hawk  seemed  like  a 
child  of  whose  resources  even  they  knew  nothing. 
It  was  a  comfort  to  Inez  to  overwhelm  her  with  this 
storm  of  kisses,  and  a  comfort  to  the  other  also. 

"  She  must  learn  to  speak  to  us.  And,  while  we 
are  on  the  trail  here,  she  shall  learn  her  own  language. 
We  will  not  make  her  talk  about  your  '  loftiness '  and 
your  '  serenity/  Miss  Eunice." 

"  Dear,  dear  Ma-ry,"  said  the  girl,  turning  to  her 
again,  and  speaking  very  slowly,  as  if  that  would  help, 
"  do  say  something  to  me.  Talk  baby-talk,  dear 
Ma-ry." 

And  then  she  tried  her  with  "  ma-ma ;  "  and,  as 
before,  it  was  very  certain  that  "  Ma-ry  "  knew  what 
these  syllables  meant.  And  with  a  wild  eagerness  she 
would  listen  to  what  Inez  said  to  her,  and  then  would 
try  to  form  words  like  Inez's  words.  Perhaps  she 
had  some  lingering  memory  of  what  her  mother  had 
taught  her;  but  the  words  would  not  come. 

"  Then,  if  I  cannot  teach  you,  you  shall  teach  me, 
dear  Ma-ry."  And  so  the  two  girls  began,  with  Har- 
rod's aid,  to  work  out  the  chief  central  signs  of  the 
language  of  pantomime;  and,  when  Inez  found 
her  chance,  she  would  make  "  Ma-ry "  repeat  in 
English  this  word  or  that,  which  the  girl  caught 


1 24  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

quickly.  The  readiness  of  her  organs  for  this  speech 
was  enough  to  show  that  she  had  had  some  training 
in  it  when  she  was  yet  very  young. 

In  this  double  schooling  the  girls  passed  the  after- 
noon, for  many  miles  after  they  were  all  in  the  saddle 
again.  Indeed,  it  became  occupation  and  amusement 
for  all  the  leaders  of  the  party  for  day  after  day  in 
their  not  very  eventful  journey.  Their  fortune  did 
not  differ  from  that  of  most  travellers  in  such  an 
expedition.  The  spirit  and  freshness  of  an  open-air 
life  lifted  them  well  over  the  discomforts  of  a  begin- 
ning ;  and  when  the  bivouac,  the  trail,  and  the  forest 
began  to  be  an  old  story,  the  experience  gained  in  a 
thousand  details  made  compensation  for  the  lack  of 
novelty  and  consequent  excitement.  For  some  days 
from  Nacogdoches,  the  trail  led  them  through  woods, 
only  occasionally  broken  by  little  prairies.  A  little 
Spanish  post  at  the  Trinity  River,  and  once  or  twice 
the  humble  beginnings  of  some  settler  on  the  trail, 
vary  the  yellow  pages  of  poor  little  Inez's  diary.  But 
the  party  were  beginning  to  grow  reckless,  in  com- 
parison with  their  caution  at  the  outset,  —  reckless 
merely  because  they  had  been  so  favored  in  the 
weather  and  in  the  monotonous  safety  of  their  march, 
—  when  they  were  recalled,  only  too  suddenly,  to  the 
sense  of  the  danger  which  always  hangs  over  such 
travellers  in  the  wilderness. 

Harrod  had  sent  on  his  men  in  advance,  as  had 
come  to  be  the  custom,  with  directions  to  select  the 
position  for  the  camp,  and  have  the  ladies'  tents 
ready  before  the  caravan  proper  arrived.  Adams 
and  Richards  found  that  a  bayou  known  as  the  Little 


or,  Show  your  Passports  125 

Brasses  was  so  swollen  that  the  passage  would  be 
perhaps  circuitous  and  certainly  difficult,  and,  with  fit 
discretion,  fixed  their  camp  on  high  land  above  the 
water's  edge,  although  by  this  location  the  party 
made  a  march  shorter  by  an  hour  than  was  usual. 
Nobody  complained,  however,  of  the  early  release 
from  the  saddle,  the  two  young  people  least  of  all. 
A  few  minutes  were  enough  for  them  to  refit  them- 
selves ;  and  there  was  then  half  an  hour  left  before 
the  late  dinner  or  early  supper — now  called  by  one 
name,  and  now  by  another  —  which  always  closed 
the  day. 

Harrod's  directions  were  absolute,  and  Ransom's  as 
well,  that  there  should  be  no  straggling,  not  the  least, 
from  the  camp;  and  the  girls  were  least  inclined  of 
any  to  disregard  them.  Certainly  poor  little  Inez  had 
no  thought  of  disobedience,  when  she  pointed  out  to 
Harrod  a  little  knoll,  hardly  five  rods  from  where 
they  stood,  and  said  to  him  that  it  must  command  a 
better  view  of  the  bayou  than  they  had  at  the  camp 
itself,  and  she  would  try  once  again  if  she  could 
make  any  manner  of  sketch  there,  which  would  serve 
as  a  suggestion  of  the  journey  to  her  father.  For 
both  Eunice  and  Inez  had  cultivated  some  little  talent 
they  had  in  this  way;  and  besides  the  fiddle-faddle  in 
work  on  ivory,  which  was  a  not  unusual  accomplish- 
ment for  French  ladies  in  their  time,  each  of  them 
had  tried  to  train  herself — and  Eunice  had  with 
some  success  trained  Inez  —  in  drawing,  in  the  open 
air,  from  nature.  In  the  close  forest  of  the  first  few 
days  from  Nacogdoches,  Inez  had  found  few  opportu- 
nities for  her  little  sketch-book ;  and  Harrod  encour- 


126  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

aged  her  in  her  proposal  now,  and  promised  to  join 
her  so  soon  as  the  horses  were  all  unpacked  and  fitly 
tethered  for  the  night. 

Inez  sat  there  for  a  minute,  made  the  notes  in  her 
diary  (which  in  yellow  ink  on  yellow  paper  still 
appear  on  that  page),  and  then  left  the  book  open 
while  she  ran  down  to  the  edge  of  the  bayou  to  fill 
the  water-bottle  of  her  paint-box.  She  was  surprised 
and  interested  to  see  the  variety  of  the  footmarks  of 
the  different  beasts  who  had  come  to  the  same  spot 
before  her  for  drink.  A  large  log  of  a  fallen  tree  lay 
over  the  water;  and  the  fearless  girl,  who  was  not 
without  practice  in  such  gymnastics  in  her  plantation 
life,  ran  out  upon  it  to  fill  her  little  flask  with  water  as 
clear  as  she  could  find. 

Here  her  view  up  and  down  the  little  lake  —  for 
lake  it  seemed  —  widened  on  each  side.  The  sky 
was  clouded  so  that  Inez  lost  the  lights  of  the  after- 
noon sun,  but  still  it  was  a  scene  of  wonderful  beauty. 
The  dark  shadows,  crimson  and  scarlet,  of  the 
autumn  foliage,  the  tall,  clear-cut  oak,  whose  lines 
were  so  sharp  against  the  sky,  were  all  perfectly 
reflected  in  the  water,  with  a  distinctness  so  vivid  that 
she  had  only  to  bend  her  head,  and  look  under  her 
arm,  to  make  the  real  heavens  seem  the  deception, 
and  the  reflection  the  reality.  From  the  distance  her 
attention  was  gradually  called  to  her  own  shore :  a 
great  water-snake  poked  his  head  above  the  water, 
and  really  seemed  to  look  at  her  for  a  moment,  then 
with  an  angry  flash  broke  the  smooth  surface  for  a 
moment,  and  plunged  out  of  sight.  Great  bunches  of 
water-grapes  hung  near  her;  bright  leaves  of  persim- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  1 27 

mon,  red  oak  and  red  bay,  swamp  oak  and  tupelo, 
were  all  around  her,  and  tempted  her  to  make  a  little 
bouquet  for  the  supper-table.  Her  quarters  in  the 
branches  of  the  fallen  tree  were  not  extensive.  But 
the  girl  was  active,  and  was  diligently  culling  her 
various  colors,  when  her  eye  caught  sight  in  the 
water  of  a  treasure  she  had  coveted  since  she  met  the 
Caddo  Indians,  —  the  great  seed-vessels,  namely,  of 
the  gigantic  water-lily  of  those  regions,  the  Nelumbo 
lutea,  or  sacred  "  bean  of  India." 

Were  they  beyond  reach?  If  they  were,  Ransom 
would  come  down  for  her  in  a  minute  in  the  morning, 
before  they  started.  But,  if  she  had  not  this  pro- 
voking hat  and  shawl  on,  could  she  not  clamber  down 
to  the  water's  edge  among  the  small  branches,  and 
with  a  stick  break  them  off  so  they  could  be  floated 
in?  It  was  worth  the  trial.  And  so  the  girl  hung 
up  the  offending  hat  with  the  shawl,  broke  off  the 
strongest  bough  she  could  manage,  and  descended  to 
the  water's  edge  again  for  her  foraging. 

It  took  longer  than  she  meant,  for  the  rattles  were 
very  provoking.  Rattles,  be  it  said,  these  great  seed- 
vessels  are,  in  the  Indian  economies ;  and  it  was  for 
rattles  in  dancing  that  Miss  Inez  thought  them  so 
well  worth  collecting.  Now,  with  much  pulling  and 
hauling,  three  of  them  consented  to  loosen  them- 
selves from  their  anchorage,  and,  to  Inez's  delight, 
began  to  float  slowly  across  to  the  other  side  of  her 
little  cove.  Now  she  had  only  to  run  around  there, 
and  secure  her  prizes.  But  as  she  turned  to  recover 
her  hat  and  shawl,  and  to  work  shoreward  with  her 
not-forgotten  bouquet,  looking  out  through  the  bushes 


128  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

upon  the  little  opening  in  the  shrubbery  which  had 
been  her  path,  the  girl  saw  what  she  knew  in  an 
instant  must  be  the  gigantic  Texas  panther,  quietly 
walking  down  to  the  water,  with  two  little  cubs  at  its 
side.  Inez  was  frightened  :  of  that  there  is  no  doubt. 
And  to  herself  she  owned  she  was  frightened.  She 
would  have  been  frightened  had  she  met  the  beast  on 
the  travelled  trail ;  but  here  the  panther  had  her  at 
disadvantage.  She  had,  however,  the  presence  of 
mind  to  utter  no  sound.  If  the  panther  had  not 
made  her  out  hidden  in  the  shrubbery,  she  would  not 
call  his  attention.  Would  he  be  good  enough  to  lap 
his  water,  and  go  his  way,  perhaps? 

So  she  waited,  her  heart  in  her  mouth,  not  daring 
to  wink,  as  she  looked  through  the  little  opening  in 
the  tupelo  beside  her.  These,  then,  were  the  foot- 
marks which  she  had  been  wondering  about,  and  had 
thought  might  be  the  prints  of  bears.  Bears,  indeed  ! 
Much  did  she  know  of  bears  !  Would  the  creature 
never  be  done?  What  did  she  know  about  panthers? 
Did  panthers  drink  enough  for  nine  days,  like  camels? 
At  last  the  panther  had  drunk  enough  —  and  the 
little  panthers.  But  then  another  process  began. 
They  all  had  to  make  their  ablutions.  If  Inez  had 
not  been  wretched  she  could  have  laughed  to  see  the 
giant  beast  lapping  her  paws,  just  as  her  dear  old 
Florinda  did  at  home,  and  purring  its  approval  over 
the  little  wretches,  as  they  did  the  same.  But  now 
she  had  rather  cry  than  laugh.  Should  she  have  to 
stay  here  all  night?  Had  she  better  stay  all  night  or 
risk  everything  by  a  cry  that  they  could  hear  at  camp  ? 
Would  they  hear  her  at  the  camp  if  she  did  cry? 


or,  Show  your  Passports  129 

There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  poor  girl  was 
left  twenty  minutes  in  her  enforced  silence,  stiff  with 
the  posture  in  which  she  stood,  and  cold  with  fear  and 
with  the  night  mist  which,  even  before  the  sun  went 
down,  began  to  creep  up  from  the  bayou;  but  it 
seemed  to  her  twenty  hours,  and  well  it  might.  Still 
it  did  not  last  forever.  The  cubs  at  last  finished 
washing  the  last  claw  of  the  last  leg ;  and  the  old  lady 
panther,  or  old  gentleman,  whichever  the  sex  may 
have  been,  seemed  satisfied  that  here  was  no  place  for 
spending  the  night.  Perhaps  some  rustle  in  the 
shrubbery  gave  sign  of  game.  Anyway,  without 
noise,  the  great  beast  turned  on  its  tracks,  paused  a 
moment,  and  then  made  one  great  bound  inland,  fol- 
lowed by  the  little  ones.  Inez  had  some  faith  left  in 
her  in  the  power  of  the  human  voice;  and  she  did 
her  best  to  stimulate  their  flight  by  one  piercing 
scream,  which  she  changed  into  a  war-whoop,  accord- 
ing to  the  best  directions  which  White  Hawk  had 
given  her,  —  a  feminine  war-whoop,  a  war-whoop  of 
the  soprano  or  treble  variety,  but  still  a  war-whoop. 
As  such  it  was  received  apparently  by  the  panthers, 
who  made  no  tarry,  but  were  seen  no  more. 

Inez  hastened  to  avail  herself  of  her  victory.  Hat 
and  shawl  were  recovered.  Firmly  and  quickly  she 
extricated  herself  from  the  labyrinth  of  boughs  of  the 
fallen  cottonwood  tree,  and  almost  ran,  in  her  ner- 
vous triumph,  along  its  trunk  to  the  shore.  Up  the 
beaten  pathway  she  ran,  marking  now  the  fresh  im- 
pression of  the  beasts'  tracks  before  her.  Once  and 
again  she  cried  aloud,  hoping  that  she  might  be 
heard  in  the  camp.  She  had  left,  and  remembered 

9 


130  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

she  had  left,  her  note-book  and  her  sketch-book  on 
the  knoll.  But  they  might  go.  For  herself,  the  sight 
of  the  tents  was  all  in  all ;  and  she  turned  from  the 
path  she  followed  as  she  came  down,  all  the  more 
willingly  because  she  saw  the  panthers  had  followed  it 
also,  to  run  along  the  broader  way,  better  marked, 
which  kept  upon  the  level  to  the  beaten  trail  of 
travel. 

"  Broader  way,  and  better  marked."  Oh,  Inez, 
Inez  !  broad  is  the  way  that  leads  to  destruction  ;  and 
how  many  simple  wood-farers,  nay,  how  many  skilled 
in  wood-craft,  have  remembered  this  text  when  it  was 
too  late  to  profit  by  it !  Three  minutes  were  enough 
to  show  the  girl  that  this  better-marked  track  did  not 
lead  to  the  travelled  trail.  It  turned  off  just  as  it 
should  not  do,  and  it  clung  to  the  bayou.  This  would 
never  do.  They  would  miss  her  at  the  tents,  and  be 
frightened.  Panther  or  no  panther,  she  would  go  up 
over  the  knoll.  So  she  turned  back  on  her  steps,  and 
began  to  run  now,  because  she  knew  how  nervous  her 
aunt  would  be.  And  again  the  girl  shouted  cheerily, 
called  on  the  highest  key,  and  sounded  her  newly 
learned  war-whoop. 

But,  as  she  ran,  the  path  confused  her.  Could  she 
have  passed  that  flaming  sassafras  without  so  much  as 
noticing  it?  Anyway,  she  should  recognize  the 
great  mass  of  bays  where  she  had  last  noticed  the 
panthers'  tracks.  She  had  seen  them  as  she  ran 
down,  and  as  she  came  up.  She  hurried  on ;  but  she 
certainly  had  returned  much  farther  than  she  went, 
when  she  came  out  on  a  strange  log  flung  up  in  some 
freshet,  which  she  knew  she  had  not  seen  before. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  131 

And  there  was  no  clump  of  bays.  Was  this  being 
lost?  Was  she  lost? 

Why,  Inez  had  to  confess  to  herself  that  she  was 
lost  just  a  little  bit,  but  nothing  to  be  afraid  of;  but 
still  lost  enough  to  talk  about  afterwards,  she  cer- 
tainly was. 

Yet,  as  she  said  to  herself  again  and  again,  she 
could  not  be  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  nor  half  a  quarter  of 
a  mile,  from  camp.  As  soon  as  they  missed  her, — 
and  by  this  time  they  had  missed  her,  —  they  would 
be  out  to  look  for  her.  How  provoking  that  she,  of 
all  the  party,  should  make  so  much  bother  to  the 
rest !  They  would  watch  her  now  like  so  many  cats 
all  the  rest  of  the  way.  What  a  fool  she  was  ever  to 
leave  the  knoll ! 

So  Inez  stopped  again,  shouted  again,  and  listened, 
and  listened  to  hear  nothing  but  a  swamp-owl. 

If  the  sky  had  been  clear,  she  would  have  had  no 
cause  for  anxiety.  In  that  case  they  would  have 
light  enough  to  find  her  in.  She  would  have  had  the 
sunset  glow  to  steer  by ;  and  she  would  have  had  no 
difficulty  in  finding  them.  But,  with  this  horrid 
gray  over  everything,  she  dared  not  turn  round, 
without  fearing  that  she  might  lose  the  direction  in 
which  the  theory  of  the  moment  told  her  she  ought 
to  be  faring.  And  these  openings  which  she  had  called 
trails — which  were  probably  broken  by  wild  horses 
and  wild  oxen  as  they  came  down  to  the  bayou  to 
drink  —  would  not  go  in  one  direction  for  ten  paces. 
They  bent  right  and  left,  this  way  and  that;  so  that, 
without  some  sure  token  of  sun  or  star,  it  was  im- 
possible, as  Inez  felt,  to  know  which  way  she  was 
walking. 


132  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

And  at  last,  as  this  perplexity  increased,  she  was 
conscious  that  the  sun  must  have  set,  and  that  the 
twilight,  never  long,  was  now  fairly  upon  her.  All 
the  time  there  was  this  fearful  silence,  only  broken  by 
her  own  voice  and  that  hateful  owl.  Was  she  wise 
to  keep  on  in  her  theories  of  this  way  or  that  way? 
She  had  never  yet  come  back,  either  upon  the  fallen 
cottonwood  tree,  or  upon  the  bunch  of  bays  which 
was  her  landmark;  and  it  was  doubtless  her  wisest 
determination  to  stay  where  she  was.  The  chances 
that  the  larger  party  would  find  her  were  much 
greater  than  that  she  alone  would  find  them ;  but  by 
this  time  she  was  sure  that,  if  she  kept  on  in  any 
direction,  there  was  an  even  chance  that  she  was  go- 
ing farther  and  farther  wrong. 

But  it  was  too  cold  for  her  to  sit  down,  wrap  herself 
never  so  closely  in  her  shawl.  The  poor  girl  tried 
this.  She  must  keep  in  motion.  Back  and  forth  she 
walked,  fixing  her  march  by  signs  which  she  could 
not  mistake,  even  in  the  gathering  darkness.  How 
fast  that  darkness  gathered !  The  wind  seemed  to 
rise,  too,  as  the  night  came  on ;  and  a  fine  rain,  that 
seemed  as  cold  as  snow  to  her,  came  to  give  the  last 
drop  to  her  wretchedness.  If  she  were  tempted  for  a 
moment  to  abandon  her  sentry  beat,  and  try  this  wild 
experiment  or  that  to  the  right  or  left,  some  odious 
fallen  trunk,  wet  with  moss  and  decay,  lay  just  where 
she  pressed  in  to  the  shrubbery,  as  if  placed  there  to 
reveal  to  her  her  absolute  powerlessness.  She  was 
dead  with  cold,  and  even  in  all  her  wretchedness 
knew  that  she  was  hungry.  How  stupid  to  be  hun- 
gry when  she  had  so  much  else  to  trouble  her !  But 


or,  Show  your  Passports  133 

at  least  she  would  make  a  system  of  her  march.  She 
would  walk  fifty  times  this  way,  to  the  stump,  and 
fifty  times  that  way;  then  she  would  stop,  and  cry 
out,  and  sound  her  war-whoop  ;  then  she  would  take 
up  her  sentry  march  again.  And  so  she  did.  This 
way,  at  least,  time  would  not  pass  without  her  know- 
ing whether  it  were  near  midnight  or  no. 

"  Hark !  God  be  praised,  there  is  a  gun !  and 
there  is  another !  and  there  is  another  !  They  have 
come  on  the  right  track,  and  I  am  safe!  "  So  she 
shouted  again,  and  sounded  her  war-whoop  again, 
and  listened,  —  and  then  again,  and  listened  again. 
One  more  gun !  but  then  no  more !  Poor  Inez ! 
Certainly  they  were  all  on  one  side  of  her.  If  only  it 
were  not  so  piteously  dark  !  If  she  could  only  work 
half  the  distance  in  that  direction  which  her  fifty  sen- 
try beats  made  put  together !  But  when  she  strug- 
gled that  way  through  the  tangle,  and  over  one  wet 
log  and  another,  it  was  only  to  find  her  poor  wet  feet 
sinking  down  into  mud  and  water  !  She  did  not  dare 
keep  on.  All  that  was  left  for  her  was  to  find  her 
tramping  ground  again ;  and  this  she  did. 

"  Good  God,  take  care  of  me !  My  poor  dear 
father,  —  what  would  he  say  if  he  knew  his  child  was 
dying  close  to  her  friends?  Dear  mamma,  keep 
watch  over  your  little  girl!" 


134  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 


CHAPTER  X 

LIFE  ON  THE  BRASSOS 

"  As  yet  a  colt  he  stalks  with  lofty  pace, 
And  balances  his  limbs  with  flexile  grace  ; 
First  leads  the  way,  the  threatening  torrent  braves, 
And  dares  the  unknown  arch  that  spans  the  waves. 
Light  on  his  airy  crest  his  slender  head, 
His  belly  short,  his  loins  luxuriant  spread  ; 
Muscle  on  muscle  knots  his  brawny  breast ; 
No  fear  alarms  him,  nor  vain  shouts  molest. 
But,  at  the  clash  of  arms,  his  ear  afar 
Drinks  the  deep  sound,  and  vibrates  to  the  war ; 
Flames  from  each  nostril  roll  in  gathered  stream ; 
His  quivering  limbs  with  restless  motion  gleam ; 
O'er  his  right  shoulder,  floating  full  and  fair, 
Sweeps  his  thick  mane,  and  spreads  its  pomp  of  hair ; 
Swift  works  his  double  spine,  and  earth  around 
Rings  to  his  solid  hoof  that  wears  the  ground." 

SOTHEBY. 

BUT  it  is  time  that  this  history  should  return  from 
tracing  the  varying  fortunes  of  one  of  the  companies 
of  Philip  Nolan's  friends,  to  look  at  the  fortunes  of 
that  other  company  whom  he  had  himself  enlisted, 
and  to  whom  he  had  returned  when  he  left  Eunice 
and  Inez,  in  care  of  Harrod  for  the  moment,  near 
the  ferry  of  the  Sabine  River. 

Had  we  diaries  as  full  of  these  movements  as  we 
have  of  those  of  Eunice  and  Inez,  which  have  proved 
of  less  account  in  history,  this  chapter  might  take 
fuller  proportions  than  those  which  have  brought 
those  ladies  to  the  waters  of  the  Brasses  River.  It 


or,  Show  your  Passports  135 

proved  that  the  expedition  of  young  men  led  by 
Nolan,  from  Natchez  and  Texas,  was  destined  to 
meet  the  Spanish  army  in  array  of  battle.  Here  was 
the  first  of  those  trials  of  strength  between  the  de- 
scendants of  Cortez  and  his  men  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  descendants  of  New  Englanders  and  Virgin- 
ians on  the  other,  which  were  to  end  in  the  inde- 
pendence of  Texas  forty  years  after.1  But  of  this 
expedition  we  have  now  scarcely  a  record,  —  none 
excepting  one  memoir  from  its  youngest  member, 
as  drawn  up  by  him  after  the  expiration  of  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century.  Of  the  false  and  crafty  pursuit 
by  the  Spanish  forces,  the  archives  of  Texas  and 
Mexico  are  full.  The  Spanish  Armada  did  not 
cause  more  alarm  in  England  than  poor  Phil 
Nolan's  horse-hunting  expedition  among  the  very 
officers  who  had  given  him  his  right  to  enter  their 
territory. 

As  has  been  already  said,  the  party  gathered  at 
Natchez,  which  was  Nolan's  home.  Natchez,  a 
settlement  of  some  six  hundred  persons,  was  now 
an  American  town,  having  passed  under  the  flag  of 
the  United  States  a  year  or  two  before.  It  had  been 
founded  by  the  French,  however  ;  and  the  Spanish 
Government  gave  up  the  administration  only  after 
severe  pressure,  and  indeed  with  riotous  disturbances 
of  the  inhabitants.  For  it  was  becoming  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Western  race  of  men;  and,  when 
they  suspected  that  the  Spanish  Government  was 
slow  in  its  execution  of  the  treaty  which  provided  for 
the  surrender  of  Natchez  to  our  own  sway,  their 

1  No,  not  "  to  end,  "  as  I  thought  in  1876.  — E.  E.  H.,June  7,  1899. 


1 36  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

indignation  knew  no  bounds.  In  such  a  community 
as  this  it  is  not  difficult  to  fancy  the  feeling  excited 
by  the  examination  of  Nolan  —  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken  —  when  Vidal,  the  Spanish  consul, 
complained  that  he  was  about  to  invade  the  territory 
of  Mexico. 

Nolan  had,  in  fact,  enrolled  a  company  of  more 
than  twenty  men  on  this  expedition  —  the  third 
which  he  had  undertaken  in  his  trading  for  wild 
horses.  It  was  admitted  on  all  hands,  that  this  trade 
was  prohibited  under  the  general  restrictions  which 
grew  out  of  the  hateful  policy  of  that  hateful  wretch, 
Philip  the  Second  —  Bloody  Mary's  husband,  let  it 
be  reverently  remembered  in  passing.  But  in  this 
case  Don  Pedro  de  Nava,  the  commandant-general  of 
the  northeastern  provinces  of  New  Spain,  had  given 
Nolan  a  formal  permission  to  carry  it  on.  The 
horses  were  indeed  needed  in  the  Spanish  garrisons 
in  Louisiana.  On  his  several  returns  to  Orleans, 
Nolan  had  sent  presents  of  handsome  horses  to  the 
governor,  as  token  of  his  success.  And  when  these 
facts  appeared  on  the  hearing  before  Judge  Bruen, 
the  American  judge,  he  said  that  this  could  not  be 
regarded  as  a  hostile  expedition  against  a  friendly 
power  ;  it  was  a  trading  expedition  permitted  in  form 
by  the  authorities  of  that  power.  The  United  States, 
he  said,  was  not  bound  to  intervene,  nor  would  it 
intervene  in  any  way. 

Accordingly  the  gay  young  party  started,  full  of 
life  and  hope.  I  am  afraid  no  man  of  them  would 
have  turned  back  had  Judge  Bruen  addressed  them 
paternally,  and  told  them  that  they  were  violating 


or,  Show  your  Passports  137 

the  neutrality  of  the  United  States  by  an  attack  upon 
the  territory  of  its  friends.  I  am  afraid  none  of  them 
loved  the  King  of  Spain.  But  I  am  bound  to  say 
that,  so  far  as  three-quarters  of  a  century  has  un- 
locked the  secrets  of  the  past,  there  is  no  evidence 
that  Philip  Nolan  spoke  untruly  that  day,  or  that  he 
had  any  foolish  notion  of  invasion  or  conquest.  The 
reader  will  see  that  his  conduct,  and  that  of  his  men, 
show  no  signs  of  any  such  notion  ;  and  neither  the 
archives  of  Mexico  nor  of  America  have  divulged 
any  word  to  imply  it.1 

1  The  writer  begs  to  acknowledge  the  courtesy  with  which  Mr. 
Fish  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  the  accomplished  keeper  of  rolls,  as  well  as 
General  Belknap  at  the  War  Office,  have  made  every  research  in  the 
national  archives  which  would  throw  any  light  on  the  darker  places 
of  this  history.  The  following  letter  to  Philip  Nolan,  a  copy  of  which 
has  been  preserved  in  the  State  Department,  is  so  curious  that  even 
the  reader  of  a  novel  may  pause  to  look  at  it :  — 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON  TO  PHILIP  NOLAN. 

PHILADELPHIA,  June,  1798. 

SIR,  —  It  is  some  time  since  I  have  understood  that  there  are  large 
herds  of  horses  in  a  wild  state  in  the  country  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
and  have  been  desirous  of  obtaining  details  of  their  history  in  that 
State.  Mr.  Brown,  Senator  from  Kentucky,  informs  me  it  would  be 
in  your  power  to  give  interesting  information  on  this  subject,  and 
encourages  me  to  ask  it.  The  circumstances  of  the  Old  World  have, 
beyond  the  records  of  history,  been  such  as  admitted  not  that  animal 
to  exist  in  a  state  of  nature.  The  condition  of  America  is  rapidly 
advancing  to  the  same.  The  present,  then,  is  probably  the  only 
moment  in  the  age  of  the  world,  and  the  herds  above  mentioned  the 
only  subjects,  of  which  we  can  avail  ourselves  to  obtain  what  has 
never  yet  been  recorded,  and  never  can  be  again,  in  all  probability. 
I  will  add  that  your  information  is  the  sole  reliance,  as  far  as  I  can  at 
present  see,  for  obtaining  this  desideratum.  You  will  render  to 
natural  history  a  very  acceptable  service,  therefore,  if  you  will  enable 
our  Philosophical  Society  to  add  so  interesting  a  chapter  to  the 


138  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

The  young  fellows  crossed  the  Mississippi  at  Wal- 
nut Hills,1  above  Natchez,  and  rode  westerly.  Their 
route  would  thus  lie  between  the  posts  of  Natch- 
itoches  and  Washita,  —  both  of  them  old  French 
posts,  now  held  by  Spanish  garrisons.  The  Spanish 
consul  at  Natchez  had  sent  word  to  the  commandant 
at  Washita  that  this  band  was  coming  ;  and  he  sent 
out  a  party  of  dragoons  to  meet  them.  This  was  the 
party  of  which  the  reader  has  heard  already.  They 
were  more  than  twice  as  numerous  as  Nolan's  men, 
but  they  hesitated  to  attack  him,  as  well  they  might. 
For,  whether  he  had  or  had  not  any  right  to  bring 
horses  out  from  New  Spain,  he  was  not  yet  in  New 
Spain :  he  was  still  in  Louisiana.  More  than  this,  as 
has  been  said,  he  carried  with  him  the  permission  of 
the  Spanish  Governor  to  cross  the  frontier  for  the 
purposes  of  his  trade. 

The  Spanish  captain  therefore  pretended  that  he 
had  only  come  out  to  hunt  for  some  horses  he  had 

history  of  this  animal.  I  need  not  specify  to  you  the  particular  facts 
asked  for,  as  your  knowledge  of  the  animal  in  his  domesticated,  as 
well  as  his  wild  state,  will  naturally  have  led  your  attention  to  those 
particulars  in  the  manners,  habits,  and  laws  of  his  existence,  which 
are  peculiar  to  his  wild  state.  I  wish  you  not  to  be  anxious  about  the 
form  of  your  information :  the  exactness  of  the  substance  alone  is 
material ;  and  if,  after  giving  in  a  first  letter  all  the  facts  you  at  pres- 
ent possess,  you  could  be  so  good  on  subsequent  occasions  as  to  fur- 
nish such  others  in  addition  as  you  may  acquire  from  time  to  time, 
your  communications  will  always  be  thankfully  received.  If  addressed 
to  me  at  Monticello,  and  put  into  any  post-office  of  Kentucky  or  Ten- 
nessee, they  will  reach  me  speedily  and  safely,  and  will  be  considered 
as  obligations  on,  sir, 

Your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

MR.  NOLAN.  TH:  JEFFERSON. 

1  Now  Vicksburg. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  139 

lost.  But,  as  Nolan  observed,  so  soon  as  he  advanced 
with  his  friends,  the  Spanish  soldiers  turned  and 
dogged  him ;  nor  did  he  lose  sight  of  them  till  he 
passed  the  garrison  to  which  they  belonged.  He 
declined  to  go  into  Washita,  and  for  the  same  reason 
declined  to  bring  his  party  into  Natchitoches,  as  we 
have  seen.  They  crossed  the  Washita  River,  rode 
merrily  on  and  on  till  they  came  to  the  Red  River,  their 
party  being  diminished  only  by  the  absence  of  Har- 
rod,  Richards,  Adams,  and  King.  When  Blackburn 
had  joined,  Caesar  had  joined  also ;  for  Caesar  had  an 
enthusiasm  for  Captain  Nolan,  and  thought  to  see  wild 
life,  to  collect  silver,  and  to  return  soon  to  Miss  Inez. 
Under  the  captain's  lead,  so  soon  as  he  had  deter- 
mined to  give  Natchitoches  the  go-by,  they  kept  on 
the  east  side  from  the  Red  River,  till  they  came  to 
the  village  of  the  Caddoes.  Among  these  good- 
natured  and  friendly  people  they  stayed  long  enough 
to  build  a  raft  and  ferry  their  horses  over;  and  now 
the  real  enterprise  for  which  they  had  started  was 
begun. 

The  Caddoes  were  not  yet  used  to  visits  from 
whites,  though  they  had  learned  to  take  their  furs  to 
Natchitoches  every  year  to  sell.  The  Americans 
found  them  in  this  "  month  of  turkeys/*  as  they  called 
October,  or  the  "  moon  "  which  filled  the  greater  part 
of  October,  enjoying  the  holiday  of  an  Indian's  life. 
Their  lodges  were  made  by  a  framework  of  poles 
placed  in  a  circle  in  the  ground,  with  the  tops  united 
in  an  oval  form.  This  framework  was  tightly  bound 
together,  and  the  whole  nicely  thatched.  Within, 
every  person  had  a  "  bunk  "  of  his  own,  raised  from 


140  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

the  ground,  and  covered  with  buffalo-skins,  —  not  an 
uncomfortable  house.  Many  of  these  youngsters 
who  visited  them  here  had  been  born  in  log  cabins 
which  had  not  so  much  room  upon  the  floor,  for 
these  lodges  covered  a  circle  which  was  twenty-five 
feet  in  diameter.  More  than  once,  as  the  party  went 
forward,  were  the  members  of  it  glad  to  accept  the 
hospitality  which  such  lodges  offered,  and  more 
than  once  glad  to  build  such  for  their  own  quarters. 
And,  from  this  moment,  the  work  and  the  play  of 
the  little  party  began.  Nolan  was  encouraged  so 
soon  as  he  learned  that  his  presence  and  escort  for 
the  party  of  ladies  were  no  longer  needed.  One  day 
he  was  negotiating  with  Twowokanies,  —  friendly 
people  enough  when  they  saw  the  strength  of  the 
long-knives ;  he  bought  from  them  some  fine  horses, 
and  so  the  business  of  the  expedition  prospered. 
Six  days  more  brought  them  to  Trinity  River,  and 
across  it.  All  these  young  men  were  used  to  open 
prairie  life,  with  its  freedom  and  adventure ;  but  only 
the  six  Spaniards  of  the  party,  Nolan  himself,  and 
one  or  two  of  the  Americans,  had  ever  taken  wild 
horses  in  fair  chase  with  the  lasso.  The  use  of  it 
was  still  to  be  taught  and  learned,  as  the  warm  days 
of  October  and  November  passed.  While  Eunice 
and  Inez  were  wending  westward  from  Nacogdoches, 
many  was  the  frolic,  and  many  the  upset,  the  empty 
saddle,  and  the  hair-breadth  escape,  by  which  the 
greenhorns  of  this  other  party  were  broken  into  their 
new  business.  But  it  was  a  jolly  and  a  hearty  life ; 
and  no  man  regretted  the  adventure  while  buffalo- 
meat  and  fine  weather  lasted. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  141 

As  they  crossed  the  divide  between  the  Trinity  and 
the  Brasses,  moving  on  a  parallel  line  with  the 
smaller  party,  the  supply  of  buffalo-meat  gave  out; 
and  they  had  to  try  the  experiment  of  horse-flesh. 
But  there  were  few  of  them  whose  fathers  and  grand- 
fathers had  not  tried  that  before  them,  though  few  of 
them  guessed  that  it  was  to  be  made  fashionable  in 
Parisian  cafes.  As  long  ago  as  the  days  of  Philip  of 
Mount  Hope,  the  savage  who  entertained  Captain 
Church  offered  him  his  choice  of  "  cow-beef"  or 
"  horse-beef."  With  the  Brassos  River  came  good 
fare  again, — elk,  antelope,  turkeys,  buffaloes,  and 
wild  horses  by  thousands. 

So  the  captain  directed  that  here  the  camp  should 
be  established;  and  here  "  Nolan's  River"  still  flows, 
to  maintain  the  memory  of  this  camp,  and  of  the 
gallant  pioneer  who  built  it  for  a  generation  which 
has,  alas  !  well-nigh  forgotten  him.  Wild  horses  are 
but  an  uncertain,  shall  one  say  a  skittish  property? 
It  is  said  of  all  riches,  that  "  they  take  to  themselves 
wings,  and  fly."  Of  that  form  of  wealth  which  Nolan 
and  his  friends  were  collecting,  the  essential  and 
special  worth  is  that  they  do  not  have  to  take  to  them- 
selves legs,  but  are  all  ready  at  any  moment  to  flee. 
Without  this  quality,  indeed,  it  would  cease  to  be 
wealth.  In  this  case,  moreover,  the  neighborhood  of 
Twowokanies,  Comanches,  Apaches,  Lipans,  and  red- 
skins without  a  name,  made  the  uncertainty  of  wealth 
still  more  uncertain.  Whatever  else  was  doubtful, 
this  was  sure,  that,  if  these  rascals  could  run  off  the 
horses  as  fast  as  they  were  corralled,  they  would  do 
so.  And  thus  to  hunt  all  day,  and  to  keep  watch  all 


142  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

night,  was  the  duty  of  the  little  party  as  the  long 
nights  of  winter  came  on. 

The  first  necessity,  therefore,  at  "  Nolan's  River/' 
was  to  build  a  corral,  or  pen,  of  logs,  to  be  enlarged 
from  time  to  time,  as  the  success  of  hunting  war- 
ranted.1 When  the  task  was  over,  the  hunting  went 
forward  with  more  animation ;  and,  as  the  new  year 
turned,  the  young  fellows  rejoiced  in  a  drove  of  three 
hundred  fine  horses,  which,  as  they  promised  them- 
selves, they  should  take  to  a  good  market  in  Louisi- 
ana and  in  the  Mississippi  territory,  as  soon  as  the 
spring  should  open.  Camp-life  had  its  usual  adven- 
tures ;  but  the  great  occasion  of  the  winter  was  the 
arrival  of  a  party  of  two  hundred  Comanches,  men, 
women,  and  children,  on  their  way  to  the  Red  River. 
Several  tribes  of  different  names  met  at  this  place. 
A  great  chief  named  Nicoroco  had  summoned  them 
together  there.  The  young  whites  smoked  the  pipe 
of  peace  with  them  all,  gave  them  presents  as  they 
could,  and  thought  they  had  opened  amicable  rela- 
tions with  them.  And  so  they  returned  to  their 
corral  and  their  hunting. 

Blackburn  had  joined,  with  Caesar.  But  to  the 
surprise  of  all,  —  that  of  the  captain  most  of  all, — 
Harrod  and  his  squad  did  not  appear. 

Of  all  the  winter's  sojourn  there,  this  reader  need 
now  be  delayed  only  by  the  following  letter,  which 
opens  the  plans  and  hopes,  the  annoyances  and 
failures,  of  Captain  Nolan :  — 

1  The  spot  is  not  known.  Some  of  my  correspondents  in  Texas 
place  it  as  far  south  as  Waco  County,  but  the  name  "  Nolan's 
River"  makes  this  doubtful. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  143 

PHILIP  NOLAN  TO  EUNICE  PERRY. 

NOLAN'S  RIVER  IN  THE  WILDERNESS, 
4th  day  of  the  month  of  chestnuts. 
Last  year  of  the  old  century. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  PERRY,  —  If  you  think  me  dead,  this 
letter  undeceives  you.  If  you  think  me  faithless,  let  me 
try  to  undeceive  you.  If,  which  is  impossible,  you  think  I 
have  forgotten  you  or  Miss  Inez,  no  words  that  I  can  write 
will  undeceive  you. 

Blackburn  joined  us  safely  at  the  crossing  of  Trinity 
River,  and  brought  us  news  from  you  not  three  days  old. 
I  have  to  thank  you  for  your  letter,  and  Miss  Inez  for  her 
little  postscript,  for  which  I  will  repay  her  yet.  You  were 
right  in  thinking  that  the  news  which  Will  sent  of  the  cor- 
diality of  the  two  colonels,  and  of  their  determination  to  pro- 
vide escort  for  you,  combined  with  your  own  great  courtesy 
in  relieving  me  from  my  promise  to  your  brother,  were  the 
causes  which  changed  my  plans  as  formed  when  we  parted. 
Nothing  but  the  statement  of  your  own  judgment  and  wish 
would  have  debarred  me  from  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
and  your  niece  soon. 

It  is  very  true,  as  you  suspected,  that  my  presence  with 
my  men  gives  vigor  and  unity  to  their  work,  which  it  must 
have  if  it  is  to  succeed.  They  are  a  good  set,  on  the 
whole ;  but  boys  are  boys,  and  rangers  are  rangers,  and 
Spaniards  are  Spaniards.  I  am  sometimes  tempted  to 
leave  them  to  cut  each  other's  throats  when  they  stumble 
into  one  of  their  quarrels ;  and  then,  another  day,  when  all 
has  worked  well,  and  they  are  dancing  or  singing,  or  telling 
camp  stories  round  their  fire,  I  wonder  that  I  have  ever 
thought  them  anything  but  a  band  of  brothers. 

My  only  anxiety  arises  from  the  detention  of  Will  Harrod 


1 44  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

and  his  men,  who  have  not  joined  me ;  but  I  suppose  you 
know,  better  than  I,  the  cause  of  their  delay. 

The  great  enterprise  goes  forward  happily.  I  shall  hope 
to  send  Mr.  Jefferson  a  valuable  letter.  If  only  I  can  send 
him  a  horse  across  the  Alleghanies !  I  have  for  your 
brother's  own  saddle  the  handsomest  black  charger  he  ever 
set  his  eyes  upon,  the  stud  of  the  First  Consul  himself,  or 
of  your  Gracious  Majesty  Charles  the  Fourth,  not  excepted. 
If  only  the  beast  escapes  "  One  Eye,"  and  the  distemper 
and  yellow- water,  —  which  may  Castor  and  Pollux  grant ! 
Are  not  they  the  protectors  of  horses?  An  exciting  life  is 
ours.  In  the  saddle  for  the  whole  of  daylight,  we  do  not 
lose  our  anxiety  when  the  night  comes  on  :  at  least  we  chiefs 
do  not.  My  boys  are  snoring  around  this  pine -knot  fire, 
while  I  am  writing,  as  if  they  knew  no  care.  But  it  is 
always  so. 

"  Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown." 

But  my  fair  enemy  Miss  Inez  will  never  be  satisfied,  if  in 
the  wilderness  here  I  end  by  quoting  Shakespeare.  Tell  her 
it  is  for  her  sake  that  I  end  my  letter  with  an  adventure, 
which  she  may  introduce  into  her  first  romance.  You 
must  know,  and  she  must  know,  that  I  and  half  a  dozen  of 
my  boys  have  been  on  a  visit  to  Nicoroco,  the  great  chief 
of  chieftains  in  these  regions.  The  great  Wallace  himself 
was  not  so  bare-legged  as  Nicoroco  is,  nor  did  his  sway  ex- 
tend nearly  so  far.  Yes,  and  we  smoked  calumets  of  peace 
enough  to  make  Miss  Inez  sick  ten  times  over,  and  Miss 
Perry  also,  unless  your  new  waif —  Hawk-Eye,  is  her  name? 
—  have  taught  you,  faster  than  I  believe,  the  peaceful  habits 
of  the  wilderness.  Heavens  !  if  your  royal  master's  hand- 
some chief  commander,  the  "Prince  of  Peace,"  as  I  am 
told  he  is  called,  could  but  have  presided,  he  would  never 


or,  Show  your  Passports  145 

have  feared  the  salvajes  Americanos  any  more  !  Ah,  well  ! 
We  returned  from  these  pacifications  to  our  corral,  our 
buffalo- meat,  and  our  horses,  and  alas !  a  few  pacified 
Comanches  returned  with  us. 

What  faith  can  you  put  in  man?  Early  one  morning  our 
dear  friends  departed ;  and  when  we  shook  ourselves  a  few 
hours  after,  for  our  breakfast,  we  found  that,  by  some  acci- 
dent not  to  be  explained,  they  had  taken  with  them  all  of 
our  eleven  saddle-horses,  and  that  for  the  future  we  were  to 
pursue  the  mustangs  on  foot,  and  on  foot  were  to  drive 
them  through  the  deserts  to  Natchez  and  Orleans ! 
This  was  the  interpretation  given  in  effect  to  all  our 
pacifications  ! 

What  to  do  ?  Quien  sale  ?  Certainly  I  did  not  know. 
But  I  did  know  I  was  neither  going  to  ride  a  wild  mustang 
home,  nor  appear  on  foot  in  the  presence  of  my  townsfolk 
the  other  side  of  the  Father  of  Waters.  So  I  called  for 
volunteers,  and  your  dear  old  Caesar  stepped  forth  first. 
Three  white  men  joined,  ashamed  to  be  outdone  by  a 
darkey.  On  foot  we  started.  On  foot  we  followed  their 
trail  for  nine  days.  Day  by  day  they  were  more  careless. 
Day  by  day  we  were  more  cheerful.  The  ninth  day  we 
walked  gently  into  their  camp,  unsuspected  and  unexpected. 
There  was  my  old  chestnut,  whom  you  rode  that  Tuesday ; 
there  were  three  other  of  our  beasts ;  and  there  that  even- 
ing came  in,  as  innocent  as  a  lamb,  my  old  friend  One  Eye, 
of  whom  I  have  told  you  before,  with  some  excellent 
friends  of  his,  mounted  on  the  other  seven  of  our  brutes. 
This  time  I  took  Master  One  Eye,  and  tied  him  to  a  tree 
for  the  night,  to  give  him  a  chance  to  ponder  the  principles  of 
the  Great  Calumet.  The  next  morning  we  helped  ourselves 
to  all  the  bear-meat  we  could  carry,  and  turned  our  faces 
to  Nolan's  River.  We  were  not  nine  days  coming  home. 


146  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

There,  Miss  Inez  !  had  ever  Amadis  such  an  adventure, 
or  Robert  Bruce,  or  the  Count  Odoardo  de  Rascallo,  or 
your  handsome  hero  General  Junot? 

It  is  near  midnight,  unless  Orion  tells  lies ;  and  the  fire 
burns  low. 

My  homage  is  in  all  these  lines.     A  Dios. 

Your  ladyship's  most  faithful  vassal, 

To  come  or  to  stay  away, 

PHILIP  NOLAN. 

CHAPTER  XI 

RUMORS   OF  WARS 

"  With  chosen  men  of  Leon,  from  the  city  Bernard  goes, 
To  protect  the  soil  of  Spain  from  the  spear  of  foreign  foes, — 
From  the  city  which  is  planted  in  the  midst  between  the  seas, 
To  preserve  the  name  and  glory  of  old  Pelayo's  victories." 

LOCKHART. 

CAPTAIN  PHILIP  NOLAN  was,  when  he  wrote,  in  far 
greater  danger  than  he  supposed. 

As  I  write  this  morning,  if  any  gentleman  now  by  the 
side  of  "  Nolan's  River  "were  curious  to  know  if  King 
Alfonso  spent  an  agreeable  night  last  night,  he  could 
send  to  some  station  not  far  away,  and  his  curiosity 
would  be  relieved  before  dinner.  At  least,  I  suppose 
so.  I  know  that  I  was  favored  some  hours  ago  with 
the  intelligence,  which  I  did  not  want,  that  King  Al- 
fonso was  about  to  leave  Madrid  this  morning,  and 
ride  to  his  army.  In  truth,  as  it  happens,  I  know 
better  what  he  is  going  to  do  to-day  than  I  know  where 
my  next  neighbor  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  is  going. 

But,  when  Philip  Nolan  wrote  these  merry  words 


or,  Show  your  Passports  147 

to  Eunice  Perry,  he  knew  little  enough  of  what  was 
doing  at  Madrid ;  and  he  knew  still  less,  as  it  hap- 
pened, of  what  was  in  the  wind  at  a  capital  much 
nearer  to  him.  This  was  the  famous  and  noble  city 
of  Chihuahua,  —  a  city  some  three  hundred  miles 
west  of  Nolan's  corral.  To  this  distant  point  I  shall 
not  have  to  ask  the  reader  to  go  again ;  but,  before 
the  several  pieces  on  our  little  board  advance  another 
step,  I  must  ask  him  to  look  for  a  moment  now  be- 
hind all  intermediate  pawns,  and  see  what  is  the 
attitude  of  him  who  represents  the  king,  protected 
here  by  his  distant  and  forgotten  bishops,  knights, 
and  castles. 

Chihuahua  was,  in  the  year  1800,  a  city  quite  as 
imposing  in  aspect  as  it  is  to-day.  To  those  simple 
people  who  had  to  come  and  go  thither  for  one  or 
another  measure  of  justice,  injustice,  protection,  or 
vengeance,  it  seemed  the  most  magnificent  city  in  the 
world,  —  wholly  surpassing  the  grandeurs  of  all  other 
frontier  or  garrison  towns.  Around  the  public  square 
were  built  a  splendid  cathedral,  the  royal  treasury, 
and  a  building  which  served  as  the  hotel-de-ville  of 
the  administration  of  the  city.  The  cathedral  was 
one  of  the  most  splendid  in  New  Spain.  It  had  been 
erected  at  enormous  cost,  and  was  regarded  with  as- 
tonishment and  pride  by  all  the  people,  who  had  seen 
no  statues  or  pictures  to  compare  with  those  displayed 
in  its  adornments.  Several  noble  "  missiones,"  a  mili- 
tary academy,  the  establishments  of  the  Dominicans, 
Franciscans,  and  those  which  the  Jesuits  had  formerly 
built,  added  to  the  European  aspect  of  the  city. 

Our  business  with  Chihuahua  is  that,  in  this  city, 


148  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Don  Pedro  de  Nava,  the  general-commandant  of  the 
northeastern  provinces  at  this  time,  held  his  court. 
Under  the  administration  then  existing  in  New  Spain, 
his  was  an  unlimited  military  authority.  In  the 
more  southern  provinces  of  what  is  now  the  Republic 
of  Mexico,  a  system  of  a  sort  of  courts  of  appeal 
known  as  "  audiences "  had  been  created  as  some 
check  upon  the  viceroy  and  the  intendants.  But  in 
the  northern  provinces  no  such  system  was  known, 
and  the  military  law  corresponded  precisely  to  the 
definition  given  in  Boston  in  General  Gage's  time :  — 

"  ist,  The  commander  does  as  he  chooses. 

"  2d,  Military  law  is  the  law  that  permits  him  to  do  so." 

This  Governor-General  de  Nava  had,  as  the  reader 
has  been  told,  issued  to  Nolan  a  formal  permission  to 
come  from  Louisiana  for  horses,  to  take  such  as  were 
needed  for  the  remount  of  the  Spanish  army,  and  for 
these  purposes  to  bring  with  him  two  thousand  dol- 
lars' worth  of  goods  for  trade  with  the  Indians.  I 
have  seen  De  Nava's  own  account  of  this  order  in  the 
curious  archives  at  San  Antonio.  Alas!  I  am  afraid 
poor  Phil  Nolan  had  no  two  thousand  dollars'  worth 
of  goods,  and  that  that  part  of  the  permit  served  him 
little.  After  De  Nava  issued  it,  —  on  some  report  to 
Madrid  on  the  subject,  or  on  some  new  terror  there, 
—  much  stricter  orders  came  to  him,  which  he  was 
obliged  to  repeat  to  all  the  local  governors.  He 
became  painfully  aware  that  his  permit  to  Nolan 
exceeded  by  far  his  present  power.  He  does  not 
seem  to  have  thought  of  notifying  him  that  it  was 
recalled.  He  did  write  to  San  Antonio  and  to  Nacog- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  149 

doches,  to  say  that  nobody  else  must  come  for  the 
same  purpose,  but  that  his  permit  to  Nolan  was  still 
an  excuse  for  his  coming.  He  said  that,  as  Nolan 
might  have  with  him  the  two  thousand  dollars'  worth 
of  goods  permitted,  the  commanders  at  San  Antonio 
might  take  them  off  his  hands  for  the  royal  service. 
At  the  same  time  he  intimated  that  it  was  so  long 
since  his  permit  was  given,  that  Nolan  ought  not  to 
come.  But  these  papers  all  show  a  weak  man,  con- 
scious that  his  superiors  will  be  displeased  by  what  he 
has  already  done,  and  hoping  against  hope  that  some- 
thing may  turn  up  so  that  no  harm  may  come  of  it. 

Governor  Salcedo,  of  whom  the  reader  will  hear 
again,  was  the  evil  spirit  of  the  Spanish  administration 
of  these  regions,  as  the  worthless  "  Prince  of  Peace  " 
was  its  evil  spirit  at  home. 

General  Salcedo  was  the  governor  who  had  ex- 
pressed the  wish,  cited  in  an  earlier  chapter,  that  he 
could  even  prevent  the  birds  from  crossing  from  Lou- 
isiana into  Texas.  He  was  a  faithful  disciple  of  the 
extremest  views  of  King  Philip.  While  the  local 
governor  of  Coahuila,  and  the  commandant  at  San 
Antonio,  both  of  them  intelligent  men,  saw  without 
uneasiness  an  occasional  traveller  from  Natchitoches, 
or  Philip  Nolan  proposing  to  go  to  Orleans,  —  Sal- 
cedo raved  when  he  heard  of  such  obliquity  or  care- 
lessness. If  they  had  told  him  that  the  primate  of 
Mont  El  Rey,  the  beloved  Bishop  Don  Dio  Primero, 
had  extended  his  episcopal  visitation  as  far  as  Natchi- 
toches, he  would  have  been  beside  himself  with 
indignation.  "  What  devils  should  take  the  bishop 
so  far?"  And,  when  they  told  him  that  the  bishop 


150  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

went  to  fight  the  Devil,  he  expressed  the  wish  that 
his  holiness  would  leave  as  many  devils  as  he  could 
to  harry  those  damnable  French  and  the  more  dam- 
nable Americanos  beyond  them.  Ah  me !  if  Don 
Salcedo  had  been  permitted  to  live  to  see  the  day, 
forty  years  later,  when  Sam  Houston's  men  charged 
on  poor  Santa  Anna's  lines  at  San  Jacinto,  screaming, 
"  Remember  the  Alamo !  "  he  would  have  said  that 
none  of  his  black  portents  were  too  black,  and  none 
of  his  prophecies  of  evil  gloomy  enough.  He  would 
have  said  that  he  was  the  Cassandra  who  could  not 
avert  the  future  of  Texas  and  Coahuila. 

De  Nava  had  seen  no  danger  in  permitting  poor 
Philip  Nolan  to  drive  a  few  horses,  more  or  less, 
across  the  frontier  of  Texas  into  the  king's  colony  of 
Louisiana.  If  the  horses  had  gone  there  at  their 
own  will,  as  doubtless  thousands  of  horses  did  yearly, 
quien  sabef  and  what  harm?  If  Philip  Nolan  chose 
to  come  to  San  Antonio,  and  spend  there  a  little 
Orleans  money  in  his  outfit  for  such  an  expedition ; 
if  he  hired  for  good  dollars  a  handful  of  Spanish 
hunters  to  go  with  him,  —  what  harm?  said  Don 
Pedro  de  Navo.  And  so  he  gave  Philip  Nolan  the 
passport  and  permission  aforesaid. 

But  the  authorities  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  and  those 
in  the  city  of  Madrid,  did  not  know  Philip  Nolan, 
and  did  not  understand  such  reasoning.  The  only 
Philip  they  chose  to  remember  in  the  business  was 
that  Most  Gracious  and  Very  Catholic  Philip,  Lord 
of  both  Indies,  who  was  good  at  burning  heretics. 
It  was  certain  that  he  would  have  had  no  horse-hunt- 
ing in  his  domains  but  by  loyal,  God-fearing  subjects 


or,  Show  your  Passports  151 

of  his  own.  And  if  De  Nava  and  those  lax  and  good- 
natured  men,  the  governors  of  the  eastern  provinces 
of  Coahuila  and  Texas,  had  assented  to  such  heretical 
horse-hunting,  it  was  time  for  them  to  know  who  was 
master  in  these  deserts ;  and  the  orders  should  pro- 
ceed "  from  these  headquarters/'  And  if  that  broken- 
down  old  fool  Casa  Calvo,  away  in  that  bastard 
province  of  Louisiana,  which  was  neither  one  thing 
nor  another,  —  neither  colony  nor  foreign  state,  —  if 
he  chose  to  go  to  sleep  while  people  invade  us,  why, 
we  must  be  all  the  more  watchful ! 

By  some  wretched  accident,  as  we  must  suppose, 
some  account  of  Nolan's  plans,  enormously  exagger- 
ated, seems  to  have  come  even  to  the  city  of  Mexico. 
The  traditions  are  that  Mordecai  Richards, —  the 
same  Richards  whom  we  have  already  introduced  to 
our  readers,  —  after  he  had  engaged  in  Nolan's  ser- 
vice, sent  traitorous  information  to  some  Spanish 
authority,  of  the  plan  of  the  expedition  and  of  its 
probable  route.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Spanish  governors 
of  the  suspicious  race  were  far  too  much  excited  then 
to  receive  such  news  with  satisfaction.  Old  John 
Adams's  messages  about  the  mouth  of  the  Missis- 
sippi 1  had  not  been  very  pacific.  Everybody  knew, 
what  everybody  has  long  since  forgotten,  that  he  had 
half  his  army  on  that  stream,  and  fleets  of  flatboats 
at  every  post,  which  were  waiting  only  for  the  time 
when  he  should  say  "  Go/'  and  his  army  would 
pounce  upon  Orleans.  Nobody  could  say  at  what 
moment  European  combinations  might  make  this  step 
feasible,  without  the  least  danger  that  the  "  Prince  of 
1  Not  Harrod's  John  Adams,  but  President  John. 


152  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Peace/'  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  armies  of  King 
Charles,  should  strike  any  return  blow.  "  Hunting 
horses,  forsooth !  "  said  Don  Nemisio  de  Salcedo : 
"are  we  fools  to  have  such  stories  told  to  us?  It  is 
an  army  of  these  giants  of  Kentuckianos;  they  must 
be  driven  back  before  it  is  too  late."  And  poor 
Governor  De  Nava  unwillingly  enough  had  to  "  take 
the  back  track,'1  and  act  as  if  he  thought  so  too. 

His  military  force  was  not  large.  In  times  of 
absolute  peace,  seeing  no  foreign  army  was  within 
five  hundred  miles  of  Chihuahua,  the  garrison  of  that 
city  was  usually  not  more  than  two  or  three  hundred 
men.  But  in  this  terrible  exigency,  with  the  Ken- 
tuckianos mustering  in  force  on  his  distant  border, 
De  Nava  withheld  every  unnecessary  band  that  would 
otherwise  have  gone  after  Apaches  or  Comanches, 
refused  all  leaves  of  absence  and  furloughs,  made  his 
most  of  the  loyalty  of  the  military  academy,  and 
against  poor  Phil  Nolan,  fearing  nothing  in  his  corral, 
was  able  to  equip  an  army  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  men. 

Military  men,  whose  judgment  is  second  to  none, 
assure  us  that  there  was  never  better  material  for  an 
army  than  the  Mexican  soldier  of  that  day.  This 
force  of  dragoons  were  all  of  them  men  who  had  seen 
service  against  the  mounted  Indians.  Each  man  had 
a  little  bag  of  parched  corn-meal  and  sugar,  the 
common  equipage  of  the  hunters  of  those  regions. 
Travellers  of  to-day,  solicited  in  palace-cars  to  buy 
sugared  parched-corn,  do  not  know,  perhaps,  that 
this  is  the  food  of  pioneers  in  front  of  Apaches. 
Besides  this,  a  paternal  government  provided  good 
wheat  biscuit  and  shaved  dry  meat,  which  they  ate 


or,  Show  your  Passports  153 

with  enormous  quantities  of  red  pepper.  With  such 
outfit  the  troop  would  ride  cheerily  all  day,  taking 
no  meal  excepting  at  the  encampment  at  night;  and, 
if  any  man  were  hungry  in  the  day,  he  bit  a  piece  of 
biscuit,  or  drank  some  water  with  his  corn-meal  and 
sugar  stirred  into  it. 

After  orders  and  additional  orders  which  need  not 
be  named,  the  little  army  assembled  in  the  square  in 
front  of  the  cathedral.  It  was  to  march  against  the 
heretics:  that  was  all  they  knew.  A  priest  came  out 
with  holy  water,  to  bless  the  colors.  Every  man  had 
been  confessed ;  and  every  man,  as  he  shook  himself 
into  his  saddle,  understood  that,  whatever  befell,  he 
had  a  very  considerable  abatement  made  from  the 
unpleasantness  of  purgatory,  because  he  was  on  this 
holy  errand.  As  they  were  on  special  service,  not 
against  Indians  but  whites,  the  lances  which  they 
carried  on  the  prairies  were  taken  away.  But  every 
man  had  a  carbine  slung  in  front  of  his  saddle,  a 
heavy  horse-pistol  on  each  side,  and  below  the  car- 
bine the  shield,  which  was  still  in  use,  even  in  this 
century,  to  ward  off  arrows.  It  was  made  of  triple 
sole-leather.  It  was  round,  and  two  feet  in  diameter. 
The  officers  carried  oval  shields  bending  on  both 
sides,  and  in  elegant  blazonry  displayed  the  arms  of 
the  king  or  of  Spain,  with  other  devices.  So  that  it 
would  have  been  easy  to  imagine  that  Fernando  del 
Soto  had  risen  from  his  grave,  and  that  this  was  a  party 
of  the  cavaliers  of  chivalry  who  were  starting  against 
poor  Nolan  and  his  fifteen  horse-hunters  in  buckskin. 

The  governor,  with  the  officers  of  his  staff,  in  full 
uniform,  had  assisted  at  the  sacred  ceremonials  in  the 


1 54  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

church.  The  men  marched  out  and  mounted.  The 
governor,  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  cathedral,  gave 
his  hand  to  the  commander  of  the  party. 

"  May  God  preserve  you  many  years !  "  he  said. 

"  May  God  preserve  your  Excellency !  " 

"  Death  to  the  savage  heretics  !  "  said  the  governor. 

"  Death  to  the  invaders !  "  said  Colonel  Muzquiz, 
now  in  the  saddle.  Then  turning  to  his  men,  he 
waved  his  hand,  and  cried,  "  Long  live  the  king !  " 

"  Long  live  the  king !  "  they  answered  cheerily. 

"  Forward,  march!"  A  hand  kissed  to  a  lady  — 
and  the  troop  was  gone ! 


CHAPTER   XII 

"LOVE  WAITS  AND  WEEPS " 

"  The  stranger  viewed  the  shore  around  : 
'T  was  all  so  close  with  copsewood  bound, 
Nor  track  nor  pathway  might  declare 
That  human  foot  frequented  there." 

Lady  of  the  Lake. 

THE  little  camp  which  Harrod  had  formed  on  the 
Little  Brassos  was  not  much  more  than  a  hundred 
miles  below  the  corral  in  which,  some  weeks  later, 
Nolan  wrote  his  merry  letter  to  the  ladies.  Now  that 
farms  and  villages  spot  the  country  between,  —  nay, 
when  it  is  even  vexed  by  railroad  lines  and  telegraphs, 
—  now  that  this  poor  little  story  is  perhaps  to  be 
scanned  even  upon  the  spot  by  those  familiar  with 
every  locality,  —  it  is  impossible  to  bear  in  mind  that 
then  the  region  between  was  all  untrodden  even  by 


or,  Show  your  Passports  155 

savages,  and  that,  had  Harrod  and  the  ladies  loitered 
at  their  camp  till  Nolan  arrived  at  his,  they  would 
still  be  as  widely  parted  as  if  they  were  living  on  two 
continents  to-day. 

The  disappearance  of  poor  little  Inez  was  not 
noticed  in  the  camp  till  she  had  been  away  nearly  an 
hour,  —  indeed,  just  as  the  sun  was  going  down. 
Harrod  had  told  her  that  he  would  join  her  on  the 
knoll,  and  had  hurried  his  necessary  inspection,  that 
he  might  have  the  pleasure  of  sitting  by  her,  talking 
with  her,  and  watching  her  at  her  work.  But,  when 
he  turned  to  walk  up  to  her,  he  saw  that  she  was  no 
longer  there;  and,  seeing  also  that  the  curtain  in 
front  of  her  tent  was  closed,  he  supposed,  without 
another  thought,  that  she  had  returned  from  the  hill- 
side, and  was  again  in  her  tent  with  Eunice.  A  little 
impatiently  he  walked  to  and  fro,  watching  the  curtain 
door  from  time  to  time,  in  the  hope  that  she  would 
appear.  But,  as  the  reader  knows,  she  did  not 
appear.  Yet  it  was  not  till  her  aunt  came  forth  fresh 
from  a  late  siesta,  in  answer  to  Ransom's  call  to  din- 
ner, that  Harrod  learned,  to  his  dismay,  that  Inez 
was  not  with  her.  If  he  felt  an  instant's  anxiety,  he 
concealed  it.  He  only  said, — 

"  How  provoking !  I  have  been  waiting  for  her 
because  she  said  she  would  make  a  sketch  from  the 
knoll  here ;  and  now  she  must  be  at  work  somewhere 
all  alone." 

"  She  is  a  careless  child,"  said  Eunice,  "  to  have 
gone  away  from  us  into  this  evening  air  without  her 
shawl.  But  no :  she  has  taken  that.  Still  she  ought 
to  be  here." 


156  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

But  Harrod  needed  no  quickening,  and  had  already 
run  up  the  hill  to  call  her. 

Of  course  he  did  not  find  her.  He  did  find  the 
note-book  and  the  sketch-book,  and  the  open  box  of 
colors.  Anxious  now,  indeed,  but  very  unwilling  to 
make  Eunice  anxious,  he  ran  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  calling  as  loudly  as  he  dared,  if  he  were  not  to 
be  heard  at  the  camp,  but  hearing  no  answer.  He 
came  down  to  the  very  point  where  the  cottonwood 
tree  had  fallen ;  and  he  was  too  good  a  woodsman 
not  to  notice  at  once  the  fresh  trail  of  the  panther 
and  the  cubs.  He  found  as  well  tupelo  leaves  and 
bay  leaves,  which  he  felt  sure  Inez  had  broken  from 
their  stems.  Had  the  girl  been  frightened  by  the 
beast,  and  lost  herself  above  or  below  in  the  swamp? 

Or  had  she,  —  horrid  thought,  which  he  would  not 
acknowledge  to  himself! — had  she  ignorantly  taken 
refuge  on  the  fallen  cottonwood  tree,  —  the  worst  pos- 
sible refuge  she  could  have  chosen?  had  she  crept  out 
upon  it,  and  fallen  into  the  deep  water  of  the  bayou? 

He  would  not  permit  himself  to  entertain  a  thought 
so  horrible.  But  he  knew  that  a  wretched  half-hour 
—  nay,  nearly  an  hour  —  had  sped  since  he  spoke 
with  her ;  and  what  worlds  of  misery  can  be  crowded 
into  an  hour  !  He  ran  out  upon  the  tree,  and  found  at 
once  the  traces  of  the  girl's  lair  there.  He  found  the 
places  where  she  had  broken  the  branches.  He 
guessed,  and  guessed  rightly,  where  she  had 
crouched.  He  found  the  very  twig  from  which  she 
had  twisted  the  bright  tupelo.  And  he  looked  back 
through  the  little  vista  to  the  shore,  and  could  see 
how  she  saw  the  beasts  standing  by  the  water.  He 


or,  Show  your  Passports  157 

imagined  the  whole  position ;  and  he  had  only  the 
wretched  comfort,  that,  if  she  had  fallen,  it  must  be 
that  some  rag  of  her  clothing,  or  some  bit  of  broken 
branch  below,  would  have  told  the  tale.  No  such 
token  was  there ;  that  is,  it  was  not  certain  that  she 
had  fallen,  and  given  one  scream  of  agony  unheard 
before  the  whole  was  over. 

He  must  go  back  to  camp,  however  unwillingly. 
He  studied  the  trail  with  such  agony,  even,  as  he  had 
not  felt  before.  He  followed  down  the  side  track  which 
Inez,  had  followed  for  a  dozen  yards,  but  then  was  sure 
that  he  was  wasting  precious  daylight.  He  fairly  ran 
back  to  camp,  —  only  careful  to  disturb  by  his  footfall 
no  trace  which  was  now  upon  weed  or  leaf;  and  when 
he  came  near  enough  he  had  to  walk  as  if  not  too  eager. 

"Has  she  come  home?"  said  he,  with  well-acted 
calmness. 

"  You  have  not  found  her?  Dear,  dear  child,  where 
is  she?"  And  in  an  instant  Eunice's  eagerness  and 
Harrod's  was  communicated  to  the  whole  camp.  He 
showed  the  only  traces  he  had  found.  He  told  of  the 
open  color-box  and  drawing-book ;  and  Eunice  instantly 
supplied  the  clew  which  Harrod  had  not  held  before. 

"  She  went  down  to  fill  her  water-bottle.  Did  you 
find  that  there,  —  a  little  cup  of  porcelain?" 

No,  Harrod  had  not  seen  that:  he  knew  he  should 
have  seen  it.  And  at  this  moment  Ransom  brought 
in  all  these  sad  waifs,  and  the  white  cup  was  not 
among  them.  Harrod  begged  the  poor  lady  not  to 
be  distressed :  the  fire  of  a  rifle  would  call  the  girl  in. 
But  Eunice  of  course  went  with  him ;  and  then  even 
her  eye  detected  instantly  what  he  had  refrained  from 


158  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

describing  to  her,  —  the  heavy  footprints  of  the 
panther. 

"What  is  that?"  she  cried;  and  Harrod  had  to 
tell  her. 

In  an  instant  she  leaped  to  his  conclusion,  that  the 
child  had  taken  refuge  somewhere  from  the  fear  of 
this  beast,  and  in  an  instant  more,  knowing  what  she 
should  have  done  herself,  knowing  how  steady  of 
head  and  how  firm  of  foot  Inez  was,  she  said,  — 

"  She  ran  out  on  that  cottonwood  tree,  Mr.  Harrod. 
Look  there,  —  and  there,  —  and  there,  —  she  broke 
the  bark  away  with  her  feet !  My  child  !  my  child  ! 
has  she  fallen  into  the  stream  ?  " 

Now  it  was  Harrod's  turn  to  explain  that  this  was 
impossible.  He  confessed  to  the  discovery  of  the 
tupelo  leaves.  Inez  had  been  on  the  log.  But  she 
had  not  fallen,  he  said,  lying  stoutly.  There  was  no 
such  wreck  of  broken  branches  as  her  fall  would 
have  made.  And,  before  he  was  half  done,  the  sug- 
gestion had  been  enough.  Two  of  the  men  were 
in  the  water.  It  was  deep,  alas !  it  was  over  their 
heads.  But  the  men  had  no  fear.  They  went  under 
again  and  again ;  they  followed  the  stream  down  its 
sluggish  current.  So  far  as  their  determined  guess 
was  worth  anything,  Inez's  body  was  not  there. 

In  the  mean  while  every  man  of  them  had  his 
theory.  The  water  terror  held  to  Eunice,  though 
she  said  nothing  of  it.  The  men  believed  generally 
that  those  infernal  Apaches  had  been  on  their  trail 
ever  since  they  left  the  fort ;  that  they  wanted  per- 
haps to  regain  White  Hawk,  or  perhaps  thought 
they  would  take  another  prisoner  in  her  place. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  159 

This  was  the  first  chance  that  had  been  open 
to  them,  and  they  had  pounced  here.  This  was 
the  theory  which  they  freely  communicated  to 
each  other  and  to  Ransom.  To  Eunice  in  person, 
when  she  spoke  to  one  or  another,  in  the  hurried 
preparations  for  a  search,  they  kept  up  a  steady  and 
senseless  lie,  such  as  it  is  the  custom  of  ignorant  men 
to  utter  to  women  whom  they  would  encourage. 
The  girl  had  missed  the  turn  by  the  bay-trees;  or 
she  had  gone  up  the  stream  looking  for  posies.  It 
would  not  be  fifteen  minutes  before  they  had  her 
"  back  to  camp "  again.  Such  were  the  honeyed 
words  with  which  they  hoped  to  reassure  the 
agonized  woman,  even  while  they  charged  their 
rifles,  or  fastened  tighter  their  moccasins,  as  if  for 
war.  Of  course  she  was  not  deceived  for  an  instant. 
For  herself,  while  they  would  let  her  stay  by  the 
water-side,  she  was  pressing  through  one  and  another 
quagmire  to  the  edge  of  the  cove  in  different  places. 
But  at  last,  as  his  several  little  parties  of  quest  ar- 
ranged themselves,  Harrod  compelled  her  to  return. 
As  she  turned  up  from  the  stream,  one  of  the  negroes 
came  up  to  her,  wet  from  the  water.  He  gave  her 
the  little  porcelain  cup,  which  had  lodged  on  a  tangle 
of  sedge  just  below  the  cottonwood  tree.  Strange 
that  no  one  should  have  noticed  it  before ! 

Every  instant  thus  far,  as  the  reader  knows,  had 
been  wasted  time.  Perhaps  it  was  no  one's  fault, — 
nay,  certainly  it  was  no  one's  fault,  —  for  every  one 
had  "  done  the  best  his  circumstance  allowed.'1  For 
all  that,  it  had  been  all  wasted  time.  Had  Harrod 
fired  a  rifle  the  moment  he  first  missed  Inez,  with 


160  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

half  an  hour  of  daylight  still,  and  with  the  certainty 
that  she  would  have  heard  the  shot,  and  could  have 
seen  her  way  toward  him,  all  would  have  been  well. 
But  Harrod  had,  and  should  have  had,  the  terror  lest 
he  should  alarm  Eunice  unduly;  and,  in  trying  to 
save  her,  he  really  lost  his  object.  At  the  stream, 
again,  minutes  of  daylight  passed  quicker  than  any 
one  could  believe,  in  this  scanning  of  the  trail,  and 
plunging  into  the  water.  The  shouts  —  even  the  united 
shouts  of  the  party  —  did  not  tell  on  the  night  air  as 
the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  would  have  done.  Worst  of 
all,  in  losing  daylight,  they  were  losing  everything ;  and 
this,  when  it  was  too  late,  Harrod  felt  only  too  well. 

Considering  what  he  knew,  and  the  impressions  he 
was  under,  his  dispositions,  which  were  prompt,  were 
well  planned  and  soldierly.  It  is  but  fair  to  say  this, 
though  they  were  in  fact  wholly  wrong.  Yielding 
to  the  belief,  for  which  he  had  only  too  good  reason, 
that  the  Apaches  were  on  the  trail,  and  had  made  a 
push  to  secure  their  captive  again,  Harrod  bade  the 
best  soldiers  of  his  little  party  join  him  for  a  hasty 
dash  back  on  the  great  trail,  in  the  hope  that  traces 
of  them  might  be  found,  and  that  they  could  be  over- 
taken even  now,  before  it  was  wholly  dark.  One  thing 
was  certain, —  that,  if  they  had  pounced  on  their 
victim,  they  had  turned  promptly.  They  had  not  been 
seen  nor  suspected  at  the  camp  itself,  by  their  trail. 

Silently,  and  without  Eunice's  knowledge,  he  bade 
Richards  work  southward,  and  Harry,  the  negro  boy 
who  had  brought  in  the  water-bottle,  work  north- 
ward, along  the  edges  of  the  bayou.  If  there  were  — 
anything  —  there,  they  must  find  it,  so  long  as  light 


or,  Show  your  Passports  161 

lasted.  And  they  were  to  be  in  no  haste  to  return. 
"  Do  not  let  me  see  you  before  midnight.  The  moon 
will  be  up  by  and  by.  Stay  while  you  can  see  the 
hand  before  your  face." 

He  should  have  given  rifles  to  both  of  them. 
Richards,  in  fact,  took  his ;  but  the  negro  Harry,  as 
was  supposed  in  the  fond  theory  of  those  times,  had 
never  carried  a  gun,  and  he  went  with  no  weapon 
of  sound  but  his  jolly  "  haw-haw-haw "  and  his 
vigorous  call.  Once  more  here  was  a  mistake. 
Harry's  rifle-shot,  had  he  had  any  rifle  to  fire, 
would  have  brought  Inez  in  even  then. 

Meanwhile  Ransom  led  Eunice  back  to  the  camp- 
fire  ;  and,  when  his  arrangements  by  the  bayou  were 
made,  Harrod  hastily  followed.  His  first  question 
was  for  the  White  Hawk ;  but  where  she  was,  no  one 
knew.  Two  of  the  men  thought  she  had  been  with 
Miss  Perry;  but  this,  Eunice  denied.  Ransom  was 
sure  that  she  came  to  him,  and  pointed  to  the  sky, 
while  he  was  carrying  in  the  dinner.  But  Harrod 
doubted  this,  and  the  old  man's  story  was  confused. 
Were  the  girls  together?  Had  the  same  enemy 
pounced  on  both?  Harrod  tried  to  think  so,  and 
to  make  Eunice  think  so.  But  Eunice  did  not  think 
so.  She  thought  only  of  the  broken  bit  of  tupelo, 
and  of  this  little  white  cup  which  she  still  clutched  in 
her  hand.  From  the  first  moment  Eunice  had  known 
what  would  have  happened  to  her,  had  that  beast 
driven  her  out  over  the  water.  And  from  the  first 
moment  one  thought,  one  question,  had  overwhelmed 
her,  "  What  shall  I  say  to  him,  to  tell  him  that  I  let 
his  darling  go,  for  one  instant,  from  my  eye?" 


ii 


1 62  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Then  Harrod  told  Ransom  that  he  must  stay  with 
Miss  Eunice  while  they  were  gone. 

Ransom  said  bluntly,  that  he  would  be  hanged  if 
he  would :  Miss  Inez  was  not  far  away,  and  he  would 
find  her  before  the  whole  crew  on  'em  saw  anything 
on  her. 

But  Harrod  called  him  away  from  the  throng. 

"  Ransom,  listen  to  me,"  he  said.  "  If  Miss  Perry 
is  left  alone  here,  she  will  go  crazy.  If  you  leave 
her,  there  is  no  one  who  can  say  one  word  to  her  all 
the  time  we  are  gone.  I  hope  and  believe  that  we 
will  have  Miss  Inez  back  before  an  hour;  but  all  that 
hour  she  has  got  to  sit  by  the  fire  here.  You  do  not 
mean  to  have  me  stay  with  her;  and  I  am  sure  you 
do  not  want  me  to  leave  her  with  one  of  those 
'  niggers/  " 

Harrod  for  once  humored  the  old  man,  by  adopting 
the  last  word  from  his  vocabulary. 

"  You  're  right,  Mr.  Harrod  ;  I  'd  better  stay.  'N' 
I  '11  bet  ten  dollars,  now,  Miss  Inez  '11  be  the  first  one 
to  come  in  to  the  fire,  while  you 's  lookin'  after  her. 
T  ain't  the  fust  time  I  've  known  her  off  after  dark 
alone." 

"  God  grant  it !  "  said  Harrod ;  and  so  the  old  man 
stayed. 

But  Harrod  had  not  revealed,  either  to  Eunice  or 
to  Ransom,  the  ground  for  anxiety  which  had  the 
most  to  do  with  his  determinations  and  dispositions. 
In  the  hasty  examination  of  the  trail  which  he  made 
when  he  first  searched  for  the  girl,  and  afterwards 
when  he,  with  Richards  and  King,  —  better  woods- 
men than  he,  —  examined  the  path  which  they  sup- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  163 

posed  the  girl  had  taken,  and  the  well-marked  spot 
at  the  shore  of  the  bayou,  where  the  beasts  came  to 
water,  they  had  found  no  print  of  Inez's  foot;  but 
they  had  found  perfectly  defined  marks,  which  no 
effort  had  been  made  to  conceal,  of  an  Indian's  foot- 
print. Harrod  tried  to  think  it  was  White  Hawk's, 
and  pointed  to  Richards  the  smallness  of  the  moc- 
casin, and  a  certain  peculiarity  of  tread  which  he 
said  was  hers.  Richards,  on  the  other  hand,  believed 
that  it  was  the  mark  of  an  Indian  boy  whom  he 
described ;  that  he  had  been  close  behind  Inez,  and 
had  been  trying,  only  too  successfully,  to  obliterate 
every  footstep.  With  more  light,  of  course,  there 
might  have  been  more  chance  to  follow  these  indica- 
tions; but,  where  the  regular  trail  of  the  brutes 
coming  to  water  had  broken  the  bushes,  they  led  up 
less  successfully ;  and  the  indications  all  agreed  that, 
if  the  Apaches  were  to  be  found  at  all,  it  was  by  the 
prompt  push  which  they  were  now  essaying. 

They  all  sprang  to  saddle ;  and  even  Harrod  tried 
to  give  cheerfulness  which  he  did  not  feel,  by  cry- 
ing,— 

"  They  have  more  than  an  hour's  start  of  us,  and 
they  will  ride  like  the  wind.  I  will  send  back  when 
I  strike  the  trail;  but  you  must  not  expect  us  before 
midnight.11  And  so  they  were  gone. 

Poor  Eunice  Perry  sat  alone  by  the  camp-fire. 
Not  two  hours  ago  she  had  congratulated  herself,  and 
had  let  Inez,  dear  child,  congratulate  her,  because, 
at  the  Brasses  River,  more  than  half,  and  by  far  the 
worst  half,  of  their  bold  enterprise  was  over, — over, 
and  well  over.  And  now,  one  wretched  hour,  in 


1 64  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

which  she  had  been  more  careless  than  she  could 
believe,  and  all  was  night  and  horror.  Could  she  be 
the  same  living  being  that  she  was  this  afternoon? 
She  looked  in  the  embers,  and  saw  them  fade  away, 
almost  careless  to  renew  the  fire.  What  was  there  to 
renew  it  for? 

Ransom,  with  the  true  chivalry  of  genuine  feeling, 
left  her  wholly  to  herself  for  all  this  first  agony  of 
brooding.  When  he  appeared,  it  was  to  put  dry 
wood  on  the  coals. 

"  She  '11  be  cold  when  she  comes  in.  Night's  cold. 
She  did  n't  know  she  'd  be  gone  so  long."  This  was 
in  a  soliloquy,  addressed  only  to  the  embers. 

Then  he  turned  bravely  to  Eunice,  and,  bringing 
up  another  camp-stool  close  to  where  she  sat,  he 
placed  upon  it  the  little  silver  salver,  which  he  usually 
kept  hid  away  in  his  own  pack,  where  he  reserved  it 
for  what  he  regarded  as  the  state  occasions  of  the 
journey. 

"  Drink  some  claret,  Miss  Eunice;  good  for  you; 
keep  off  the  night  air.  Some  o'  your  brother's  own 
private  bin,  what  he  keeps  for  himself  and  ye  mother, 
if  she  'd  ever  come  to  see  him.  I  told  him  to  give 
me  the  key  when  he  went  away ;  told  him  you  might 
need  some  o'  the  wine ;  and  he  gin  it  to  me.  Brought 
a  few  bottles  along  with  me.  Knew  they  would  n't 
be  no  good  wine  nowhere  ef  you  should  git  chilled. 
Told  him  to  give  me  the  key;  his  own  bin.  Better 
drink  some  claret,  Miss  Eunice.'1 

He  had  warmed  water,  had  mixed  his  sangaree  as 
carefully  as  if  they  had  all  been  at  the  plantation,  had 
remembered  every  fancy  of  Eunice's  in  concocting 


or,  Show  your  Passports  165 

it,  grating  nutmeg  upon  it  from  her  own  silver  grater, 
which  lay  in  his  stores,  much  as  her  brother's  silver 
waiter  did.  And  this  was  brought  to  her  in  her 
silver  cup,  as  she  sat  there  in  the  darkness  in  the  wil- 
derness, with  her  life  darker  than  the  night.  Eunice 
was  wretched ;  but,  in  her  wretchedness,  she  appre- 
ciated the  faithful  creature's  care;  and,  to  please 
him,  she  made  an  effort  to  drink  something,  and  sat 
with  the  goblet  in  her  hand. 

"  It  is  very  good,  Ransom:  it  is  just  what  I  want; 
and  you  are  very  kind  to  think  of  it." 

Ransom  leaned  over  to  change  the  way  in  which  the 
sticks  lay  across  the  fire.  Then  he  began  again,  — 

"  Jest  like  her  mother,  she  is.  Don't  ye  remember 
night  her  mother  scared  us  all  jest  so?  Got  lost  jest 
as  Miss  Inez  has,  and  ye  brother  was  half  crazy.  No, 
ye  don't  remember :  ye  never  see  her.  Ye  brother  was 
half  crazy,  he  was.  Her  mother  got  lost  jest  as  Miss 
Inez  has;  scared  all  on  us  jest  so.  She's  jest  like  her 
mother,  Miss  Inez  is.  I  said  so  to  Mr.  Harrod  only 
yesterday." 

Eunice  was  too  dead  to  try  to  answer  him ;  and, 
without  answer,  the  old  man  went  on  in  a  moment, — 

"  We  wos  out  on  the  plantation.  It  wos  in  the  fall, 
jest  as  it  is  now.  It  wos  the  fust  year  after  ye  brother 
bought  this  place ;  did  n't  have  no  such  good  place  on 
the  river  before :  had  the  old  place  hired  of  Walker. 

"After  he  bought  this  place,  cos  she  liked  it, — 
two  years  afore  this  one  was  born,  —  it  wos  in  the 
fall,  jest  as  it  is  now  — 

"  I  'd  sent  all  the  niggers  to  bed,  I  had,  V  wos  jest 
lookin'  'round  'fore  I  locked  up,  w'en  ye  brother 


1 66  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

come  up  behind  me,  white  as  a  sheet,  he  wos.  '  Ran- 
som/ says  he,  '  where 's  ye  missus?  ' 

"  Scared  me  awfully,  he  did,  Miss  Eunice.  I  did  n't 
know  more  V  the  dead  where  she  wos ;  'n'  I  said,  says 
I,  'Isn't  she  in  her  own  room?1  —  *  Ransom/  says 
he,  '  she  is  n't  in  any  room  in  the  house ;  'n'  none  on 
'em  seen  her/  says  he,  '  since  she  had  a  cup  o'  tea 
sent  to  her  in  the  settin'-room/  says  he ;  '  V  it  was  n't 
dark  then/  says  he. 

"'N'  none  on 'em  knew  where  she  wos  or  where 
she'd  gone.  Well,  Miss  Eunice,  they  all  loved  her, 
them  darkies  did,  jest  as  these  niggers,  all  on  'em, 
loves  this  one ;  and,  w'en  I  went  round  to  ask  'em 
where  she  wos,  they  run  this  way  an'  that  way,  and 
none  on  'em  found  her.  'N'  in  an  hour  she  come  in 
all  right:  got  lost  down  on  the  levee,  —  went  wrong 
way  'n'  got  lost;  had  been  down  to  see  how  old 
Chloe's  baby  was,  'n'  got  lost  comin'  home.  Wos  n't 
scared  herself  one  bit,  —  never  was  scared,  —  wos  n't 
scared  at  nothin'.  Miss  Inez  just  like  her  mother." 

Now  there  was  a  long  pause;  but  Eunice  did  not 
want  to  discourage  him,  though  she  knew  he  would 
not  encourage  her. 

"  Tell  me  more  about  her  mother,  Ransom." 

"  Woll,  Miss  Eunice,  ye  know  how  handsome  she 
wos.  That  'ere  picter  hangs  in  the  salon  ain't  half 
handsome  enough  for  her.  Painted  in  Paris  it  wos, 
fust  time  they  went  over :  ain't  half  handsome  enough 
for  her.  Miss  Inez  is  more  like  her,  she  is. 

"  She  wos  real  good  to  'em  all,  she  wos,  ma'am. 
She  wos  quiet  like,  not  like  the  French  ladies ;  'n' 
when  they  come  and  see  her,  they  knowed  she  wos 


or,  Show  your  Passports  167 

more  of  a  lady  'n'  they  wos,  'n'  they  did  n't  care  to 
see  her  much,  'n'  she  did  n't  care  to  see  them  much. 
But  she  wos  good  to  'em  all.  Wos  good  to  the  nig- 
gers :  all  the  niggers  liked  her. 

"  Took  on  a  good  deal,  and  wos  all  broke  down, 
when  she  come  from  the  Havannah  to  this  place. 
Kissed  this  one,  Dolores  here,  that  we's  goin'  to 
see,  —  kissed  her  twenty  times;  'n'  Dolores  says  to 
me,  says  she,  —  that's  this  one,  —  she  says,  says  she, 
in  her  funny  Spanish  way,  '  Ransom,  take  care  of  her 
ev'ry  day  and  ev'ry  night;  'n',  Ransom,  when  you 
bring  her  back  to  me/  says  she,  '  I  '11  give  you  a 
gold  doubloon/  says  she.  'N'  she  laughed,  'n'  I 
laughed,  'n' we  made  this  one  laugh,  —  Miss  Inez's 
mother.  She  did  not  like  to  come  away,  'n'  took  on 
a  good  deal." 

Another  pause,  in  which  Ransom  wistfully  contem- 
plated the  sky. 

"  Took  her  to  ride  myself,  I  did,  ev'ry  time,  after 
this  one  was  born, —  I  did.  Coachman  didn't  know 
nothin'.  Poor  crittur,  ye  brother  got  rid  on  him 
afterward.  No:  he  died.  I  drove  the  kerridge  my- 
self, I  did,  after  this  one  was  born.  She  was  dread- 
ful pleased  with  her  baby,  cos  it  wos  a  gal,  'n'  she 
wanted  a  gal,  'n'  she  took  it  to  ride  ev'ry  day ;  'n'  she 
says  to  me,  '  Ransom/  says  she, '  we  must  make  this 
a  Yankee  baby,  like  her  father/  says  she.  She  says, 
says  she,  'Ransom,  next  spring/  says  she,  ' we  will 
carry  the  baby  to  Boston/  says  she,  '  'n'  show  'em 
what  nice  babies  we  have  down  here  in  Orleans/  says 
she.  'N'  she  says  to  me,  says  she  one  day,  when  she 
had  had  a  bad  turn  o'  coughin',  '  Ransom/  says  she, 


1 68  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

'  you  '11  take  as  nice  care  of  her  as  ye  do  of  me/  says 
she;  '  won't  you,  Ransom?1  says  she." 

"  And  you  said  you  would,  Ransom,  I  'm  sure," 
said  Eunice  kindly,  seeing  that  the  old  man  would 
say  no  more. 

"  Guess  I  did,  ma'am.  She  need  n't  said  nothin'. 
Never  thought  o'  doin'  nothin'  else.  Knew  none  on 
'em  did  n't  know  nothin'  'cept  ye  brother  till  you 
come  down,  ma'am.  It  was  a  hard  year,  ma'am, 
before  you  come  down.  Did  n't  none  on  'em  know 
nothin'  'cept  ye  brother." 

Eunice  was  heard  to  say  afterward  that  the  implied 
compliment  in  these  words  was  the  greatest  praise 
she  had  ever  received  from  human  lips ;  but  at  the 
time  she  was  too  wretched  to  be  amused. 

There  was  not  now  a  long  time  to  wait,  however, 
before  they  could  hear  the  rattle  of  hoofs  upon  the 
road  they  had  been  following  all  day. 

It  was  Harrod's  first  messenger,  the  least  compe- 
tent negro  in  his  train.  He  had  sent  him  back  to 
relieve  Eunice  as  far  as  might  be  with  this  line, 
hurriedly  written  on  a  scrap  of  brown  paper :  — 

"  We  have  found  the  rascals'  trail  —  very  warm.  I  write 
this  by  their  own  fire.  H." 

The  man  said  that  they  came  upon  the  fire  still 
blazing,  about  three  miles  from  camp.  King  and 
Adams  and  Captain  Harrod  dismounted,  studied  the 
trail  by  the  light  of  burning  brands,  and  were 
satisfied  that  the  camp  had  been  made  by  Indians, 
who  had  followed  our  travellers  along  on  the  trail,  and 
now  had  turned  suddenly.  King  had  said  it  was  not 


or,  Show  your  Passports  169 

a  large  party ;  and  Captain  Harrod  had  only  taken  a 
moment  to  write  what  he  had  sent  to  Miss  Eunice, 
before  they  were  all  in  the  saddle  again  and  in 
pursuit. 

So  far  so  good.  And  now  must  begin  another 
desperate  pull  at  that  wait-wait-wait,  in  which  one's 
heart's  blood  drops  out  most  surely,  if  most  slowly. 

Old  Ransom  tended  his  fire  more  sedulously  than 
ever,  and  made  it  larger  and  larger. 

"  She  '11  be  all  chilled  when  she  comes  in,"  said  he 
again,  by  way  of  explanation.  But  this  was  not 
his  only  reason.  He  bade  Louis  go  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  bring  up  to  him  wet  bark,  and 
bits  of  floating  wood.  He  sent  the  man  again  and 
again  on  this  errand ;  and,  as  fast  as  his  fire  would 
well  bear  it,  he  thrust  the  wet  sticks  into  the  embers 
and  under  the  logs.  The  column  of  steam,  mingling 
with  the  smoke,  rose  high  into  the  murky  sky;  and 
the  light  from  the  blaze  below  gave  to  it  ghastly 
forms  as  it  curled  on  one  side  or  the  other  in  occa- 
sional puffs  of  wind. 

Tired  and  heart-sick,  Eunice  lay  back  on  her 
couch,  with  her  tent-door  opened,  and  watched  the 
wayward  column.  Even  in  her  agony  some  sickly 
remembrance  of  Eastern  genii  came  over  her;  and 
she  knew  that  the  wretched  wish  passed  her,  that 
she  might  wake  up  to  find  that  this  was  all  a  phan- 
tasm, a  fairy  tale,  or  a  dream. 

So  another  hour  crawled  by.  Then  came  a  sound 
of  crackling  twigs ;  and  poor  Eunice  sprang  to  her 
feet  again,  only  to  meet  the  face  of  the  negro  Harry, 
returning  from  his  tour  of  duty.  He  had  worked  up 


1 70  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

the  stream,  as  he  had  been  directed;  he  had  tried 
every  access  to  the  water.  He  said  he  had  screamed 
and  called  and  whooped,  but  heard  nothing  but 
owls.  The  man  was  as  fearless  of  the  night  or 
of  loneliness  as  any  plantation  slave  used  to  the 
open  sky.  But  he  had  thought,  and  rightly  enough, 
that  his  duty  for  the  night  was  at  an  end  when  he 
had  made  a  tramp  longer  than  was  possible  to  so 
frail  a  creature  as  Inez;  and  came  back  only  to 
report  failure.  He  was  dragging  with  him  a  long 
bough  for  the  fire;  and  it  was  the  grating  of  this 
upon  the  ground  which  gave  warning  of  his 
approach. 

Nothing  for  it,  Eunice,  but  to  lie  down  again,  and 
watch  that  weird  white  column,  and  the  black  forms 
of  the  three  men  hovering  about  it.  Not  a  footfall,  not 
even  the  sighing  of  the  trees :  the  night  is  so  still ! 
It  would  be  less  weird  and  terrible  if  anything  would 
cry  aloud.  But  all  nature  seems  to  be  waiting  too. 

A  halloo  from  Richards  —  who  comes  stalking  in, 
cross,  wet,  unsuccessful,  and  uncommunicative. 

"  No  —  see  nothin'.  Knew  I  should  n't  see  nothin'. 
All  darned  nonsense  of  the  cappen's  sending  me  thar. 
Told  him  so  w'en  I  started,  that  she  had  n't  gone  that 
way,  and  I  knew  it  as  well  as  he  did.  Fired  my  rifle? 
Yes,  fired  every  charge  I  had.  Did  n't  have  but  five, 
and  fired  'em  all.  She  did  n't  hear  'em ;  no,  cos  she 
was  n't  there  to  hear  'em.  Hain't  you  got  a  chaw  of 
tobacco,  Ransom?  or  give  a  fellow  somethin'  to 
drink.  If  you  was  as  wet  as  I  be,  you  'd  think 
you  wanted  sunthin  !  " 

Wait  on,  Eunice,  wait  on.     Go  back  to  your  lair, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  171 

and  lie  upon  your  couch.  Do  not  listen  to  Rich- 
ards's  grumbling:  try  to  keep  down  these  horrible 
imaginings  of  struggles  in  water,  of  struggles  with 
Indians,  of  faintness  and  death  of  cold.  "  Suffi- 
cient for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 

Yes:  poor  Eunice  thinks  all  that  out.  "But 
is  not  this  moment  the  very  moment  when  my 
darling  is  dying,  and  I  lying  powerless  here?  Why 
did  I  not  go  with  them?" 

"  Too-oo  —  too-oo  —  " 

"Is  that  an  owl?" 

"  Hanged  if  it 's  an  owl.     Hark  !  " 

"  Whoo  —  whoo — whoo  —  whoo,"  repeated  rapidly 
twenty  times;  and  then  again,  "  Whoo  —  whoo  — 
whoo — whoo,"  twenty  times  more,  as  rapidly. 

Ransom  seized  his  gun,  fired  it  in  the  air,  and  ran 
toward  the  sound.  Eunice  followed  him,  gazing  out 
into  the  night. 

"Whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo,"  more  slowly; 
and  then  Ransom's  "  Hurrah !  All  right,  ma'am. 
She  's  here,"  through  the  darkness. 

And  then,  in  one  glad  minute  more,  he  had 
brought  Inez  in  his  arms;  and  her  arms  were  around 
her  aunt's  neck,  as  if  nothing  on  earth  should  ever 
part  them  more. 

The  White  Hawk  had  brought  her  in. 

And  now  the  White  Hawk  dragged  her  to  the  fire, 
pulled  off  the  moccasins  that  were  on  her  feet,  and 
began  chafing  her  feet,  ankles,  and  legs,  while  Ran- 
som was  trying  to  make  her  drink,  and  Eunice  kneel- 
ing, oh,  so  happy  in  her  anxiety,  at  the  poor  girl's 
side. 


172  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 


CHAPTER  XIII 

NIGHT  AND  DAY 

"  The  camp  affords  the  hospitable  rite, 
And  pleased  they  sleep  (the  blessing  of  the  night); 
But  when  Aurora,  daughter  of  the  dawn, 
With  rosy  lustre  purpled  o'er  the  lawn, 
Again  they  mount,  the  journey  to  renew." 

Odyssey. 

WITH  the  first  instant  of  relief,  old  Ransom  bade 
Harry  saddle  the  bay  mare,  which  Ransom  had  never 
before  been  known  to  trust  to  any  human  being  but 
himself.  With  an  eager  intensity  which  we  need  not 
try  to  set  down  in  words,  he  bade  him  push  the  mare 
to  her  best,  till  he  had  overtaken  the  captain,  and 
told  him  the  lost  was  found. 

Meanwhile  poor  little  Inez  was  only  able  to  speak 
in  little  loving  ejaculations  to  her  aunt,  to  soothe  her 
and  to  cry  with  her,  to  be  cried  with  and  to  be  soothed. 

"  Dear  aunty,  dear  aunty,  where  did  you  think  I 
was  ?  "  and  — 

"  My  darling,  my  darling,  how  could  I  lose  sight  of 
you?" 

And  the  White  Hawk  —  happy,  strong,  cheerful, 
and  loving  —  was  the  one  "  effective  "  of  the  three. 

But  Ransom  had  not  chosen  wrongly  in  his  pre- 
vision for  her  return.  "  Knew  ye  'd  be  cold  w'en  ye 
come  in,  Miss  Inez ;  knew  ye  war  n't  drowned,  and 
war  n't  gone  far."  He  had  a  buffalo-skin  hanging 
warming,  ready  for  her  to  lie  upon.  He  brought  a 


or,  Show  your  Passports  173 

camp-stool  for  her  head  to  rest  upon,  as  she  looked 
into  the  embers.  And  when  Eunice  was  satisfied 
at  last  that  no  hair  of  her  darling's  head  was  hurt; 
when  she  saw  her  fairly  sipping  and  enjoying  Ran- 
som's jorum  of  claret;  when  at  last  he  brought  in 
triumph  soup  which  he  had  in  waiting  somewhere, 
and  the  girl  owned  she  was  hungry,  —  why,  then, 
Eunice,  as  she  lay  at  her  side,  and  fed  her  and  fondled 
her,  was  perhaps  the  happiest  creature,  at  that  mo- 
ment, in  the  world. 

And  when  words  came  at  last,  and  rational  ques- 
tions and  answers,  Inez  could  tell  but  little  which 
the  reader  does  not  already  know;  nor  could  they 
then  learn  much  more  from  White  Hawk,  with  lan- 
guage so  limited  as  was  theirs. 

"  Panther?  yes,  horrid  brute!  I  have  seemed  to 
see  him  all  night  since.  When  it  was  darkest,  I  won- 
dered if  I  did  not  see  the  yellow  of  those  dreadful  eyes. 

"Apaches?  No,  I  saw  no  Indians,  nor  thought 
of  them;  only  my  darling  'Ma-ry'  here;"  and  she 
turned  to  fondle  the  proud  girl,  who  knew  that  she 
was  to  be  fondled.  "  O  Ma-ry,  my  sweetheart,  how  I 
wish  you  knew  what  I  am  saying !  Why,  Eunice, 
when  I  thought  it  was  my  last  prayer,  when  I  asked 
the  good  God  to  comfort  you  and  dear  papa,"  — here 
her  voice  choked,  —  "I  could  not  help  praying  for 
dear  '  Ma-ry/  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  her  poor 
mother,  and  the  agony  in  which  she  carried  this  child 
along.  And  then,  why,  Eunice,  it  was  not  long  after, 
that  all  of  a  sudden  I  was  lying  in  her  arms,  and  she 
was  cooing  to  me  and  rubbing  me;  and  I  thought 
for  a  moment  I  was  in  bed  at  home,  and  it  was  you ; 


174  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

and  then  I   remembered    again.     And  dear,  aunty, 
what  a  blessing  it  was  to  know  I  was  not  alone !  " 

In  truth,  the  brave  girl  had  held  resolute  to  her 
purpose.  She  would  save  her  voice  till,  at  the  end 
of  every  fifty  sentry  turns,  she  would  stop  and  give 
her  war-whoop  and  other  alarm-cry.  Then  she  would 
keep  herself  awake  by  walking,  walking,  walking, 
though  she  were  almost  dead,  till  she  had  made  fifty 
turns  more ;  and  then  she  would  stop  and  scream 
again.  How  often  she  had  done  this,  she  did  not 
know ;  Eunice  could  guess  better  than  she.  Nor  did 
she  know  how  it  ended.  She  must  have  stumbled 
and  fallen.  She  knew  she  walked  at  last  very  clum- 
sily and  heavily :  all  else  she  knew  was,  as  she  said, 
that  she  came  to  herself  lying  on  the  ground,  while 
White  Hawk  was  rubbing  her  hands,  and  then  her 
feet,  and  that  White  Hawk  would  say  little  tender 
things  to  her,  —  would  say  "  Ma-ry,"  and  would  stop 
in  her  rubbing  to  kiss  her;  then,  that  White  Hawk 
pulled  off  those  horrid  wet  stockings  and  moccasins 
which  she  had  been  tramping  in,  and  took  from  her 
own  bosom  a  pair  dry  and  strong,  —  "  oh,  how  good 
it  felt,  aunty  !  "  —  and  then,  that  White  Hawk  made 
her  rest  on  her  shoulder,  and  walk  with  her  a  little, 
till  she  thought  she  was  tired,  and  then  sat  down  with 
her,  and  would  rub  her,  and  talk  to  her  again.'1 
"  How  in  the  world  did  she  know  the  way?" 
"  Heaven  knows  !  She  would  stop  and  listen  :  she 
would  put  her  ear  to  the  ground  and  listen.  At  last 
she  made  me  sit  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  while  she 
climbed  like  a  squirrel,  aunty,  to  the  very  top ;  and 
then  she  came  down,  and  she  pointed,  and  after  she 


or,  Show  your  Passports  175 

pointed  she  worked  always  this  way.  She  made  this 
sign,  aunty ;  and  this  must  be  the  sign  for  '  fire/  " 

The  girl  brought  her  hands  near  her  breast,  half 
shut,  till  they  touched  each  other,  and  then  moved 
them  quickly  outward.  Both  of  them  turned  to 
White  Hawk,  who  was  listening  carefully ;  and  they 
pointed  to  the  embers,  as  Inez  renewed  the  sign. 
White  Hawk  nodded  and  smiled,  but  repeated  it,  ex- 
tending her  fingers,  and  separating  her  hands,  as  if  in 
parody  of  the  waving  of  flame.  This  part  of  the  ges- 
ture poor  Inez  had  not  seen  in  the  darkness. 

From  the  moment  White  Hawk  had  seen  Ransom's 
white  and  rosy  column  of  smoke,  it  had  been  a  mere 
question  of  time.  By  every  loving  art  she  had  made 
the  way  easy  for  her  charge.  She  would  have  lifted 
her,  had  Inez  permitted.  "  But,  aunty,  I  could  have 
walked  miles.  I  was  strong  as  a  lion  then." 

Lion  or  lamb,  after  she  was  roasted  as  a  jubilee  ox 
might  have  been,  she  said,  her  two  nurses  dragged 
her  to  her  tent  and  to  bed. 

"  It  is  too  bad,  aunty !  I  ought  to  thank  dear  Cap- 
tain Harrod,  and  all  of  them.  Such  a  goose  as  to 
turn  night  into  day,  and  send  them  riding  over  the 
world!" 

All  the  same  they  undressed  her,  and  put  her  to 
bed ;  and  such  is  youth  in  its  omnipotence,  whether 
to  act,  to  suffer,  or  to  sleep,  that  in  five  minutes  the 
dear  child  was  unconscious  of  cold,  of  darkness,  or 
of  terror. 

And  Eunice  did  her  best  to  resist  the  reaction 
which  crept  over  her,  oh,  so  sweetly !  after  her  hours 
of  terror.  But  she  would  start  again  and  again,  as 


ij6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

she  lay  upon  her  couch.  One  instant  she  said  to  her- 
self,— 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am  quite  awake !  I  never  was  more 
wakeful.  But  what  has  happened  to  them  ?  Will  they 
never  be  here?"  And  the  next  instant  she  would  be 
bowing  to  the  First  Consul,  as  Mr.  Perry  presented  her 
as  his  sister,  and  renewed  his  old  acquaintance  with 
Madame  Josephine,  once  Beauharnais.  Then  she 
would  start  up  from  her  couch  and  walk  out  to  the 
fire,  and  Ransom  would  advise  her  to  go  back  to  her 
tent  At  last,  however,  just  when  he,  good  fellow! 
would  have  had  it  (for  his  preparation  of  creature 
comforts  for  the  scouting  party  was  made  on  a  larger 
scale,  if  on  a  coarser,  than  those  for  Miss  Inez),  the 
welcome  tramp  of  rapid  hoofs  was  heard ;  and  in  five 
minutes  more  Harrod  swung  himself  from  the  saddle 
by  the  watch-fire,  and  was  eagerly  asking  her  for  news. 

For  himself,  he  had  but  little  to  tell.  Since  all  was 
well  at  home,  it  would  wait  till  breakfast. 

"What  have  you  got  for  us  now,  Ransom?  a  little 
whiskey?  Yes,  that 's  enough;  that's  enough.  The 
others  are  just  behind." 

Then,  turning  to  Eunice, — 

"Yes,  Miss  Perry.  All  is  well  that  ends  well.  I 
have  said  that  to  myself  and  aloud  for  this  hour's  gal- 
lop.—  Ransom!  Ransom!  don't  let  those  fools  take 
her  to  water.  Make  Louis  rub  her  dry.  —  Yes,  Miss 
Perry,  we  found  the  rascals'  fire.  God  forgive  me  for 
calling  them  rascals  !  They  are  saints  in  white,  for  all 
I  know.  But  really,  —  this  whiskey  does  go  to  the 
right  place  !  — but  really,  when  you  have  been  trying 
to  ride  down  a  crew  of  pirates  for  a  couple  of  hours, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  1 77 

it  is  hard  to  turn  round  and  believe  they  were  honest 
men. 

"  Yes,  we  found  their  fire ;  and,  if  I  ever  thanked 
God,  it  was  then,  Miss  Perry.  Though  why,  if  they 
were  after  the  girls,  why  they  should  have  built  a  fire 
just  there  by  that  little  wet  prairie,  I  could  not  tell 
myself.  Still  there  was  the  fire.  Up  till  that  moment, 
Miss  Eunice,  —  up  till  that  moment,  —  I  believed  she 
was  stark  and  dead  under  the  water  of  the  bayou.  I 
may  as  well  tell  you  so  now/'  and  he  choked  as  he 
said  it;  and  she  pressed  his  hand,  as  if  she  would  say 
she  had  been  as  sure  of  this  as  he. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  that  the  painter  there,  or  the  In- 
dians, or  both  together,  had  driven  her  out  on  that 
infernal  cottonwood  log  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss 
Eunice :  I  am  sure  the  log  has  done  me  no  harm ; 
but  I  thought  we  were  never  to  see  her  dear  face 
again/'  And  he  stopped,  and  wiped  the  tears  from 
his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his  hand. 

"  So  I  thanked  God  when  I  saw  their  fire,  because 
that  confirmed  what  all  the  rest  of  them  said.  And 
we  got  off  our  horses,  and  we  could  see  the  trail  was 
warm :  they  went  off  in  a  hurry.  Why  they  did  not 
put  their  fire  out,  I  did  not  know,  more  than  why 
they  lighted  it. 

"  If  we  could  have  made  a  stern  chase,  as  Ransom 
would  say,  we  would  have  overhauled  them  soon; 
but  this  I  did  not  dare.  King  knew  from  what  he 
saw  this  morning  how  to  take  us  round  the  edge  of 
that  wet  prairie,  —  by  a  trail  they  had  followed  by 
mistake  then;  and  he  said  we  could  head  them  as 
they  travelled,  at  the  sloo  where  we  lunched,  if  you 


1 78  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

remember.  For  we  could  see  that  they  had  one  lame 
mule  at  least.  They  seemed  to  have  but  few  beasts, 
anyway;  and  of  course  none  of  them  was  a  match 
for  Bet  there,  or  for  that  Crow,  the  bay  that  King 
rides.  So  I  took  him  with  me,  told  the  others  to  keep 
the  main  trail  slowly;  and  sure  enough,  in  an  hour, 
more  or  less,  King  had  me  just  where  you  and  Miss 
Inez  lay  under  that  red-oak  to-day. 

"And  there  we  waited  and  waited;  not  long,  not 
long.  We  could  hear  them  grunting  and  paddling 
along,  and  beating  the  mule,  till  I  stepped  out,  and 
struck  an  old  fellow  over  the  shoulder,  and  cocked 
my  pistol.  They  do  not  know  much,  but  they  knew 
what  that  meant.  They  all  stopped  meek  as  mice, 
for  they  thought  I  was  an  army. 

"  But,  good  heavens  !  there  were  but  four  of  them ; 
three  old  men  and  a  squaw,  and  these  four  miserable 
brutes.  It  was  no  war-party,  that  was  clear.  I  could 
have  talked  to  them  if  it  were  daylight ;  but  now  it 
was  as  much  as  ever  I  could  see  them,  or  they  me. 
King  understood  none  of  their  gibberish,  nor  I.  I 
hoped  perhaps  Adams  might;  meanwhile  I  tied  the 
old  fellow  hand  and  foot :  he  did  not  resist,  none  of 
them  resisted.  In  a  minute  the  others  came  up ;  and 
then  we  struck  a  light,  and,  after  some  trouble,  made 
a  fire. 

"Then,  when  we  could  see,  I  began  to  talk  to 
them  in  gestures ;  and  now  I  can  afford  to  laugh  at 
it:  then  I  was  too  anxious  and  too  mad. 

"  I  went  at  the  old  man.  You  should  have  seen 
me.  He  said  he  could  not  answer  because  his  hands 
were  tied,  which  was  reasonable.  So  I  untied  him, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  179 

but  told  him  I  would  blow  his  brains  out  if  he  tried 
to  run  away.  At  least,  I  think  he  knew  I  would. 

"  I  asked  him  where  the  girls  were. 

"  He  said  we  had  them  with  us. 

"  I  told  him  he  lied. 

"  He  said  I  did. 

" 1  asked  him  again  where  they  were,  and  threat- 
ened him  with  the  pistol. 

"  He  said  he  knew  nothing  of  the  girl  with  the  long 
feather,  since  she  sat  there  with  her  back  to  the  oak- 
tree,  and  mended  the  lacing  of  her  shoe. 

"  Only  think,  Miss  Eunice,  how  the  dogs  watch 
us! 

"As  for  White  Hawk,  he  said  he  sold  her  to 
Father  Andre's  for  the  lame  mule  he  had  been  riding, 
and  that  he  supposed  Father  Andre's  sold  her  to  me ; 
that  he  had  not  seen  her  since  I  mounted  you  ladies, 
and  White  Hawk  went  on  in  advance.  He  said  they 
stayed  and  picked  up  what  dinner  the  men  had  left, 
and  ate  it,  as  they  had  every  day. 

"  I  asked  him  why  he  left  his  fire.  He  said  they 
were  frightened.  They  knew  we  were  in  the  saddle, 
and  they  were  afraid,  because  they  had  stolen  the 
blacksmith's  hammer  and  the  ham-bones :  so  they 
mounted  and  fled. 

"  Well,  you  know,  I  thought  this  was  an  Indian's 
lie,  —  a  lie  all  full  of  truth.  I  told  him  so.  I  took 
him,  and  tied  him  to  a  tree,  and  I  tied  the  other  man 
and  the  big  boy.  The  woman  I  did  not  tie :  Miss 
Eunice,  applaud  me  for  that.  I  believe  you  have  a 
tender  heart  to  the  redskins;  and  I  determined  to 
wait  till  morning.  But  in  half  an  hour  I  heard  the 


180  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

rattle  of  the  mare's  heels,  and  up  came  Harry  to  say 
that  all  was  well." 

"  And  all 's  well  that  ends  well." 

"  Yes,  Ransom :  no  matter  what  it  is.  I  did  not 
know  I  should  ever  feel  hungry  again. 

"  But,  dear  Miss  Perry,  how  thoughtless  I  am ! 
For  the  love  of  Heaven,  pray  go  into  your  tent,  and 
go  to  sleep.  How  can  we  be  grateful  enough  that 
she  is  safe?" 

Then  he  called  her  back. 

"  Stop  one  moment,  Miss  Perry:  we  are  very  near 
each  other  now.  What  may  happen  before  morning, 
none  of  us  know.  I  must  say  to  you,  therefore,  now, 
what  but  for  this  I  suppose  I  should  not  have  dared 
to  say  to  you,  —  that  she  is  dearer  to  me  than  my 
life.  If  we  had  not  found  her,  oh,  Miss  Perry,  I 
should  have  died !  I  would  have  tried  to  do  my 
duty  by  you,  indeed;  but  my  heart  would  have 
been  broken. 

"  Yes.  I  knew  how  eager  you  were,  and  how 
wretched.  Pray  understand  that  my  wretchedness 
and  my  loss  would  have  been  the  same  as  yours. 
Good-night !  God  bless  her  and  you  !  " 

A  revelation  so  abrupt  startled  Eunice,  if  it  did  not 
wholly  surprise  her.  But  she  was  too  completely  ex- 
hausted by  her  excitements  of  every  kind  even  to  try 
to  think,  or  to  try  to  answer.  She  did  not  so  much 
as  speak,  as  he  turned  away,  and  only  bade  him 
good-by  by  her  kindly  look  and  smile. 

It  was  late  when  they  met  at  breakfast.  Harrod 
would  gladly  have  permitted  a  day's  halt  after  the 
fatigues  of  the  night,  but  not  here.  They  must  make 


or,  Show  your  Passports  1 8 1 

a  part  of  the  day's  march ;  and  already  all  of  the 
train  which  could  be  prepared  was  ready  for  a  start. 
Inez  appeared  even  later  than  the  others;  but  she 
was  ready  dressed  for  travelling.  The  White  Hawk 
welcomed  her  as  fondly  and  proudly  as  if  she  were 
her  mother,  and  had  gained  some  right  of  property  in 
her.  Eunice  was  so  fond  and  so  happy,  and  Harrod 
said  frankly  that  he  did  not  dare  to  tell  her  how  happy 
the  good  news  made  him  when  it  came  to  him. 

"  Woe 's  me,"  said  poor  Inez,  hardly  able  to  keep 
from  crying.  "  Woe 's  me,  that,  because  I  was  a  fool, 
brave  men  have  had  to  ride,  and  fair  women  to 
watch  !  You  need  none  of  you  be  afraid  that  I  shall 
ever  stray  two  inches  from  home  again." 

But,  as  she  ate,  Harrod  drew  from  her,  bit  by  bit, 
her  own  account  of  her  wanderings. 

"  And  to  think,"  said  he,  "  that  this  girl  here  knows 
how  to  follow  a  trail  better  than  I  do,  and  finds  one 
that  I  have  lost !  I  believe  the  flowers  rise  under 
your  tread,  Miss  Inez ;  for  on  the  soft  ground  yonder 
by  the  lick  we  could  not  find  your  foot-tread.  Could 
it  have  been  hers  that  frightened  me  so?  " 

Then  he  told  her  how  they  were  sure  they  caught 
the  traces  of  an  Indian  boy,  and  thought  he  had 
been  stepping  with  his  feet  turned  outward  in  her 
footprints. 

"And  pray  what  did  you  think  I  wore,  captain? 
I  had  taken  off  my  shoes,  and  I  was  walking  in  the 
moccasins  the  Senora  Tr^vino  gave  me  at  Nacog- 
doches." 

"  And  I  did  not  know  your  footfall  when  I  saw  it 
I  will  never  call  myself  a  woodsman  again !  " 


1 82  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  PACKET  OF  LETTERS 

"  I  warrant  he  hath  a  thousand  of  these  letters." 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

BUT  it  is  time  that  the  reader  should  welcome  the 
party  of  travellers,  no  longer  enthusiastic  about  camp- 
life,  to  the  hospitalities  —  wholly  unlike  anything 
Inez  had  ever  seen  before  —  of  San  Antonio  de 
Bexar. 

The  welcome  of  her  dear  aunt,  of  Major  Barelo,  — 
who  held  the  rank  of  alfarez,  which  in  these  pages 
will  be  translated  "  major,"  —  indeed,  one  may  say, 
of  all  the  gentlemen  and  ladies  of  the  garrison,  had 
been  most  cordial.  The  energy  of  the  march  made 
it  a  matter  of  nine  days'  wonder;  and  the  young 
Spanish  gentlemen  thanked  all  gods  and  goddesses 
for  the  courage  which  had  brought,  by  an  adventure 
so  bold,  such  charming  additions  to  the  circle  of  their 
society.  Dona  Maria  Dolores  was  not  disappointed 
in  her  niece ;  nor  was  she  nearly  so  much  terrified  by 
this  wild  American  sister-in-law  as  she  had  expected ; 
and  Inez  found  her  aunt,  ah !  ten  times  more  lovely 
than  she  had  dared  to  suppose. 

But  the  impressions  of  both  ladies  will  be  best 
given  by  the  transcript  of  three  of  their  letters, — 
which  have  escaped  the  paper-mills  of  three-quarters 
of  a  century,  —  written  about  a  week  after  their 
arrival.  True,  these  letters  were  written  with  a  pain- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  183 

ful  uncertainty  lest  they  were  to  be  inspected  by 
some  Spanish  official.  They  were  severely  guarded, 
therefore,  in  anything  which  might  convict  Nolan  or 
Harrod,  or  their  humbler  adherents.  For  the  rest, 
they  describe  the  position  of  the  ladies  sufficiently. 

INEZ  PERRY  TO  HER  FATHER. 

IN  MY  OWN  ROOM,  SAN  ANTONIO  DE  BEXAR, 
Nov.  26,  1800. 

DEAR,  DEAR  PAPA,  —  Gan  you  believe  it  ?  We  are  really 
here.  See,  I  write  you  in  my  own  room,  which  dear  Aunt 
Dolores  has  arranged  for  me  just  as  kindly  as  can  be.  I 
would  not  for  the  world  tell  her  how  funny  it  all  is  to  me ; 
for  she  has  done  everything  to  make  it  French  or  American, 
or  to  please  what  are  supposed  to  be  my  whims.  But,  if 
you  saw  it,  you  would  laugh  so,  papa  !  and  so  would  Roland, 
if  he  is  anything  like  you. 

I  shall  write  Roland  a  letter,  and  it  will  go  in  the  same 
cover  with  this.  But  he  must  not  cry,  as  you  used  to  say 
to  me,  if  I  write  to  you  first  of  all. 

I  have  kept  my  journal  very  faithfully,  as  I  said  I  would ; 
and  some  day  you  shall  see  it.  But  not  now,  dear  papa ; 
for  the  general  —  Herrara,  you  know  —  is  very  kind  to  let 
this  go  at  all,  and  it  must  be  the  smallest  letter  that  I  know 
how  to  make,  and  Roland's  too. 

I  think  you  were  wholly  right  about  the  journey,  dear 
papa ;  and  if  we  had  it  to  do  over  again  you  would  think 
that  this  was  the  way  to  do  it,  if  you  knew  all  that  we  have 
seen  and  all  that  we  have  enjoyed,  and  even  if  you  knew  all 
the  inconveniences.  It  has  been  just  as  you  said,  that  I 
have  learned  ever  so  many  things  which  I  should  never  have 
learned  in  any  other  way,  and  seen  ever  so  much  that  I 
should  never  have  seen  in  any  other  way.  Dear  papa,  if 


1 84  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

you  will  keep  it  secret,  and  not  tell  Roland,  —  for  I  am 
dreadfully  afraid  of  Roland,  you  know,  —  I  will  tell  you 
that  I  do  not  think  that  I  am  near  so  much  of  a  goose  as  I 
was  when  I  left  home.  I  hope  you  would  say  that  your 
little  girl  is  rather  more  of  a  woman.  And  I  am  as  well, 
papa,  as  I  can  be.  Eunice  says  I  have  gained  flesh.  We 
cannot  find  out,  though  we  were  all  weighed  yesterday  in 
the  great  scales  in  the  warehouse.  But  they  weigh  with 
fanegas  and  all  sorts  of  things ;  and  nobody  seems  to  know 
what  they  mean  in  good  honest  livres.  I  know  I  am  stouter, 
because  of  the  dresses,  you  know.  There,  pray  do  not  read 
that  to  Roland. 

Aunt  Eunice  is  writing,  and  she  will  tell  you  all  the  busi- 
ness, —  the  important  business  of  the  journey.  She  will 
explain  why  we  changed  the  plans,  and  how  it  all  happened. 
I  know  you  will  be  very  sorry  that  we  had  not  Capt.  P.  all 
the  way.  I  am  sure  I  was.  He  was  just  as  nice  as  ever, 
and  as  good  as  gold  to  me.  If  Roland  is  to  be  a  soldier,  I 
hope  he  will  be  just  such  a  soldier.  But  then,  I  hope 
Roland  is  not  to  be  a  soldier.  I  hope  he  is  to  come  home 
to  me  some  day.  Aunt  Eunice  will  tell  you  whom  we 
had  to  escort  us  instead  of  Capt.  P.  When  you  come 
home  you  will  know  how  to  thank  him  for  his  care  of  us.  I 
only  wish  I  knew  when  we  are  to  see  him  or  the  captain 
again.  Papa,  if  you  or  Roland  had  been  with  us,  I  do  not 
think  there  was  one  thing  you  could  have  thought  of  which 
he  did  not  think  of  and  do,  so  bravely  and  so  pleasantly  and 
so  tenderly.  I  knew  he  had  sisters,  and  he  said  he  had.  I 
can  always  tell.  I  only  hope  they  know  that  it  is  not  every 
girl  has  such  brothers.  I  have ;  but  there  are  not  many 
girls  that  do.  Why,  papa,  the  night  I  was  lost,  he  —  there  ! 
I  did  not  mean  to  tell  you  one  word  of  my  being  lost,  but 
it  slipped  out  from  the  pen.  That  night  he  was  in  the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  185 

saddle  half  the  night,  hunting  for  me.  Perhaps  you  say 
that  was  of  course.  And  he  tied  up  some  Indians  that 
he  thought  knew  about  me.  Perhaps  that  was  of  course 
too.  But  what  was  not  of  course  was  this  :  that  from  that 
moment  to  this  moment,  he  never  said  I  was  a  fool,  as  I 
was.  He  never  said  if  I  had  done  this  or  that,  it  would 
have  been  better.  He  was  perfectly  lovely  and  gentlemanly 
about  it  all,  always :  papa,  he  was  just  like  you.  I  wish  I 
knew  when  we  should  see  him  again.  He  left  yesterday, 
with  only  three  men,  to  join  the  captain.  I  wish  we  could 
see  him  soon.  When  we  are  all  at  home  again,  in  dear, 
dear  Orleans,  I  shall  coax  you  to  let  me  ask  his  sister  to 
spend  the  winter  with  us.  There  are  two  of  them  :  one  is 
named  Marion,  —  really  after  the  Swamp-Fox,  papa,  —  and 
the  other  is  named  Jane.  Jane  is  the  oldest.  Is  not 
Marion  a  pretty  name  ? 

But,  papa,  though  there  is  only  this  scrap  left,  I  want  to 
tell  you  earnestly  how  much  I  want  to  take  Ma-ry  with 
us  when  you  come  home ;  how  much  I  love  her,  and 
how  necessary  it  is  that  she  shall  not  stay  here.  Aunt 
Eunice  says  she  will  explain  it  all,  and  who  Ma-ry  is,  and 
why  I  write  her  name  so.  She  will  tell  you  why  it  is  so 
necessary  as  I  say.  But,  dear  papa,  only  I  can  tell  you  how 
much,  how  very  much,  I  want  her.  You  see,  I  have  a  sister 
now,  and  I  do  not  want  to  lose  her.  And,  papa,  this  is  not 
the  coaxing  of  a  little  girl :  this  is  the  real  earnest  wish  of 
your  own  Inez,  now  she  has  seen  things  as  a  woman  sees 
them.  Do  not  laugh  at  that,  dear  papa :  but  think  of  it 
carefully  when  you  have  read  dear  aunty's  letter,  and  think 
how  you  can  manage  to  let  me  have  Ma-ry  till  she  finds  her 
own  home.  Oh,  dear  !  what  will  happen  to  me  when  she 
finds  it? 

Oh  papa!   why  is  not  this  sheet  bigger?     It  was  the 


1 86  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

biggest  they  had.     Ever  so  much  love  to  Roland,  and  all  to 
you. 

From  your  own  little 

INEZ. 

Silas  Perry  read  this  letter  aloud  to  his  soldier  son, 
as  they  sat  together  in  their  comfortable  lodgings  in 
Passy.  And  then  Roland  said,  "  Now  let  me  try  and 
see  how  much  the  little  witch  explains  to  me  of  these 
mysteries.  It  is  just  as  she  says:  she  is  afraid  of  me 
without  wanting  to  be,  and  we  shall  find  the  words 
are  longer,  though  I  am  afraid  the  letter  will  be 
shorter.  We  will  fix  all  that  up  when  I  have  been  a 
week  on  the  plantation.11 

INEZ  PERRY  TO  ROLAND  PERRY. 

SAN  ANTONIO  DE  BEXAR,  Nov.  27,  1800. 
MY  DEAR  BROTHER,  —  You  have  not  the  slightest  idea 
what  sort  of  a  place  a  Spanish  city  is,  though  you  have  been 
the  subject  of  our  gracious  and  catholic  king  ten  years 
longer  than  I  have.  There  are  many  beautiful  situations 
here,  and  some  of  the  public  edifices  are  as  fine  as  any  we 
have  in  Orleans ;  but  it  is  the  strangest  place  I  ever  saw. 

"  That  is  curious,"  said  Roland,  stopping  to  keep 
his  cigar  alive,  "  as  she  never  saw  any  other  place  but 
Orleans.  You  see  that  I  have  the  dignified  letter,  as 
I  said.  I  shall  be  jealous  of  you  if  it  keeps  on  so." 

Then  he  continued  his  reading :  — 

We  have  had  a  beautiful  journey  through  a  very  interest- 
ing country.  I  am  sure  you  would  have  enjoyed  it ;  and 
as  we  spent  three  days  at  Nacogdoches,  which  is  a  garrison 
town,  perhaps  it  would  have  been  instructive  in  your  pro- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  T  87 

fession.  But  perhaps  a  French  military  student  does  not 
think  much  of  Spanish  officers.  All  I  can  say  is,  we  saw 
some  very  nice,  gentlemanly  men  there,  who  danced  very 
well ;  and  we  saw  those  horrid  dances,  the  Fandango  and 
Bolero. 

All  the  escorts  say  that  we  had  a  very  fortunate  journey 
across  the  wood-country  and  the  prairies.  I  am  told  here 
that  I  have  borne  the  fatigue  very  well.  There  was  not  a 
great  deal  of  fatigue,  though  sometimes  I  was  very  tired. 
One  night  there  was  a  Norther,  —  so  Mons.  Philippe  called  it. 

"Does  she  mean  Nolan,  by  'Mons.  Philippe?1" 
said  Roland,  stopping  himself  again.  "  I  thought  she 
said  Nolan  was  not  with  them.  There 's  a  blot  here, 
where  she  wrote  something  else  at  first  Can  the  man 
have  two  names  ?  " 

So  Mons.  Philippe  calls  it,  but  the  people  here  call  it 
Caribinera.  What  it  is  is  a  terrible  tempest  from  the 
north,  which  tears  everything  to  pieces,  and  is  terribly 
cold.  We  were  so  cold  that  we  needed  all  our  wraps  to 
make  us  comfortable,  and  Ransom  had  to  build  up  the  fire 
again. 

I  am  sure  I  shall  enjoy  my  visit  here.  My  aunt  and 
Major  Barelo  are  as  kind  as  possible ;  and  all  the  ladies  in 
the  garrison  have  been  very  thoughtful  and  attentive.  But 
how  glad  I  shall  be  to  come  home  again,  and  meet  you 
and  papa  ! 

Dear  Roland,  do  not  go  into  the  army. 

"  What  is  this?  Something  more  scratched  out?" 
But  he  held  it  to  the  light. 

There  is  fighting  enough  to  be  done  here. 


1 8  8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

"  That  is  what  Miss  Een  thinks,  is  it?" 
"  But  she  did  not  dare  trust  that  to  the  post-office 
in  Mexico.     That  is  a  prudent  girl." 
"  Is  that  all?"  said  his  father. 
"  Yes,  all  but  this :  " 

Dear  Roland,  I  do  want  to  see  you,  and  I  love  you  always. 

Truly  yours,  INEZ. 

"  I  call  that  a  nice  letter,  sir;  and,  on  the  whole,  I 
will  not  change  with  you.  Of  course  she  has  changed 
a  hundred  times  as  much  as  I  have,  and  I  cannot 
make  out  that  she  is  anything  but  a  baby.  Dear 
Aunt  Eunice  will  fill  all  blanks." 

EUNICE  PERRY  TO  SILAS  PERRY. 

SAN  ANTONIO  DB  BEXAR,  Nov.  26,  1800. 
MY  DEAR  BROTHER,  —  We  are  safe  here,  and  have  a  most 
cordial  welcome.  Having  no  chance  to  write  by  Orleans,  I 
send  this,  through  Gen.  Herrara's  kindness,  by  the  City  of 
Mexico,  whence  there  is  a  despatch-bag  to  some  port  in 
Europe. 

"  Roland,  she  thinks  the  letters  were  to  be  exam- 
ined on  their  way,  and  I  believe  this  has  been." 

"  I  am  certain  mine  has  been,  sir.  Here  is  the 
mark  which  shows  what  was  copied  from  mine  in 
some  Mexican  office,  — this  that  poor  little  Een  tried 
to  scratch  out,  about  fighting." 

"  Much  good  may  it  do  them  !  "  said  his  father,  and 
continued  reading  his  sister's  letter  aloud :  — 

Inez  has  borne  her  journey  famously.  Indeed,  when  we 
were  well  started,  and  were  once  used  to  the  saddle,  it  was 
tedious,  but  nothing  more.  She  lost  herself  one  night,  and 


or,  Show  your  Passports  189 

frightened  me  horribly ;  but  no  harm  came  of  it.  As  for 
Indians,  we  saw  but  few.  From  the  first  post  the  Spanish 
officers  furnished  us  escorts  of  troops  on  their  return  to  this 
garrison.  Perhaps  that  frightened  away  the  Indians,  as  it 
certainly  did  los  Americanos. 

" '  As  it  certainly  did  los  Americanos'  Roland, 
Phil  Nolan  found  that  his  room  was  better  than  his 
company.  He  would  never  have  left  them  if  it  were 
not  better  for  them  that  he  should  leave.  Eunice 
knew  these  letters  were  to  be  opened,  and  she  has 
written  for  more  eyes  than  mine." 

When  you  see  Mons.  Philippe,  you  must  express  what  I 
have  tried  to  tell,  —  how  much  we  value  his  constant  and 
kind  attention. 

"Who  the  dickens  is  Mons.  Philippe?  That  I 
shall  learn  when  the  '  Hamilton '  comes  in." 

We  have  brought  with  us  a  charming  girl,  who  makes  a 
dear  companion  for  Inez,  being,  I  suppose,  about  her  age. 
She  is  an  American  girl,  whom  a  Spanish  priest  found  among 
the  Apaches,  and  bought  of  them.  From  the  first  moment 
the  two  girls  fancied  each  other,  though  at  first  neither 
could  understand  the  other's  language.  But  now  Mary  has 
learned  a  great  deal  of  English  and  a  little  Spanish,  and 
dear  little  Inez  is  quite  glib  in  Apache  !  The  girl's  name  is 
Mary ;  she  calls  it  Ma-ry,  as  if  it  were  two  words ;  it  is  the 
only  word  she  remembers  which  her  mother  taught  her. 

Inez  wants  to  take  her  home ;  and,  unless  I  hear  from 
you  that  you  object,  I  shall  agree  to  this,  unless  some  othei 
arrangement  is  made  for  sending  her  East.  Dona  Dolores 
agrees  :  the  garrison  is  not  a  very  good  place  for  her. 

To  tell  you  the  truth,  the  regular  lessons  which   Inez 


190  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

gives  her,  and  the  reading  which  the  dear  girl  undertakes 
in  books  you  bade  her  read,  keeps  them  out  of  mis- 
chief for  two  or  three  hours  every  day.  The  ladies  here 
do  so  little,  and  have  so  little  to  do  in  this  dull  Moor-like 
life,  that  this  seems  strange  to  them.  But  I  encourage 
them  both  in  it.  They  ride  a  good  deal  under  dear  old 
Ransom's  escort ;  and  sometimes  he  drives  them  out  in  one 
of  these  solemn  old  carriages  which  I  believe  were  inherited 
direct  from  Cortez. 

This  is  an  interesting  place,  such  as  I  suppose  you  have 
often  seen,  but  as  different  from  a  French  city,  or  from  our 
French  city,  —  do  not  let  Roland  laugh  at  me,  —  as  that  is 
from  Squam  Bay.  Oh,  do  not  think  that  we  will  be  home- 
sick here.  Dona  Dolores  is  all  that  you  described  her  to  be, 
and  as  happy  in  her  new  plaything  as  she  hoped  to  be,  and 
deserved  to  be.  She  persuades  herself  that  she  sees  Inez's 
mother's  face  in  hers,  and  is  sometimes  startled  by  a  tone 
of  her  voice.  She  delights  the  dear  child,  as  you  may  sup- 
pose. There  are  several  ladies  here  who  are  accomplished 
and  agreeable.  I  do  not  know  but  you  have  heard  the 
major  speak  of  the  families  of  Garcia,  of  Gonzales,  and 
Tr£vino.  Col.  Tr^vino  is  now  at  Nacogdoches :  he  was 
very  civil  to  us. 

We  have  found  two  governors  here,  —  fortunately  for  us, 
for  I  believe  neither  of  them  strictly  belongs  here.  Gen. 
Herrara  is,  as  you  know,  a  remarkable  man :  we  are  great 
friends.  His  wife  is  an  English  lady  whom  he  married  at 
Cadiz,  and  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  see  so  much  of  her. 
He  was  in  Philadelphia  when  Gen.  Washington  was  presi- 
dent, and  spoke  to  me  at  once  of  him.  Of  course  we  have 
been  firm  friends  ever  since  that.  He  is  governor,  not  of 
this  province,  but  of  New  Leon,  our  next  neighbor,  and  is 
very  much  beloved  there.  I  hardly  know  why  he  resides 


or,  Show  your  Passports  191 

so  much  here.  Gov.  Cordero,  whose  real  seat  of  govern- 
ment is  Monte- Clovez,  is  here  a  great  deal,  —  for  military 
reasons,  I  suppose.  He  is  a  bachelor :  the  more  is  the 
pity.  He  is  Spanish  by  birth,  and  every  inch  a  soldier. 
Gov.  Elquezebal  you  will  remember. 

Young  Walker  is  here  from  the  military  school.  You 
remember  his  mother.  He  came  at  once  to  see  me. 

But  my  paper  is  at  an  end,  and  I  must  let  my  pen  run  no 
longer.  Give  much  love  to  my  dear  Roland.  This  letter 
is  his  as  much  as  yours. 

Always  your  own  loving  sister, 

EUNICE  PERRY. 

"  Governor  Cordero  is  there  for  military  reasons, 
Roland,  and  General  Herrara  is  there  also.  What 
military  reasons  but  that  President  John  Adams  has 
stirred  up  the  magnificoes  a  little?  But  if  I  have 
sent  our  doves  into  a  hawk's  nest,  Roland,  I  do  not 
know  how  we  are  to  get  them  out  again." 

"  It  is  one  comfort,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  "  that 
there  will  be  a  good  strip  of  land  and  water  between 
General  Herrara  and  General  Wilkinson." 

And  the  father  and  son  resumed  their  cigars,  and 
sat  in  silence. 

What  Silas  Perry  meant  by  "  a  good  thick  strip  " 
will  appear  from  his  own  letter  to  Eunice,  which  shall 
be  printed  in  the  next  chapter.  He  had  written  it  as 
soon  as  possible  after  his  arrival  in  Paris.  It  had 
crossed  her  letter  on  the  ocean.  Written  under 
cover  to  his  own  house  in  Orleans,  and  sent  by  his 
own  vessel,  it  spoke  without  hesitation  on  the  topics, 
all-important,  of  which  he  wrote. 


192  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

CHAPTER  XV 

COURTS    AND    CAMPS 

Well  loved  that  splendid  monarch  aye 

The  banquet  and  the  song, 
The  merry  dance,  traced  fast  and  light, 
The  maskers  quaint,  the  pageant  bright, 

The  revel  loud  and  long. 
Here  to  the  harp  did  minstrels  sing ; 
There  others  touched  a  softer  string ; 
While  some,  in  close  recess  apart, 
Courted  the  ladies  of  their  heart, 

Nor  courted  them  in  vain.  —  Marmion. 

OUR  little  history  draws  again  upon  these  yellow  files 
of  ancient  letters. 

SILAS  PERRY  TO  EUNICE  PERRY. 

PASSY,  near  PARIS,  Nov.  16,  1800. 

MY  DEAR  SISTER,  —  We  have  had  a  wonderful  run.  Look 
at  the  date,  and  wonder,  when  you  know  that  I  have  been 
here  a  week.  I  have  good  news  for  you  in  every  way. 
First,  that  our  dear  boy  is  well,  —  strong,  manly,  gentle- 
manly,—  and  not  unwilling  to  come  home.  He  thought 
I  should  not  know  him  in  his  cadet  uniform,  as  he  stood 
waiting  for  me  in  the  courtyard  where  the  post-chaise 
brought  me.  But,  Lord  !  I  should  have  known  him  in  a 
million.  Yet  he  is  stronger,  stouter,  has  the  air  militaire 
wonderfully ;  and  they  do  not  wear  their  hair  as  our  officers 
do.  This  is  my  first  great  news.  The  second  you  would 
read  in  the  gazettes,  if  you  were  not  sure  to  read  this  first. 
It  is,  that  France  and  America  are  firm  friends  again  :  no 
more  captures  at  sea,  no  more  mock  war.  This  First 
Consul  knows  what  he  is  about.  He  told  his  brother 


or,  Show  your  Passports  193 

Joseph  what  to  do,  and  he  did  it.  On  the  3Oth  of  Sep- 
tember the  treaty  was  signed :  the  right  of  search  is  all 
settled,  and  commerce  is  to  be  free  on  both  sides.  Had  I 
known  this  on  the  30th  of  September,  I  might  not  have 
come.  For  all  that,  I  am  glad  I  am  here. 

Third  bit  of  news ;  and  this  is  "  secret  of  secrets,"  as  our 
dear  mother  would  have  said.  You  may  tell  Inez;  but 
swear  her  to  secrecy.  I  have  only  told  Turner  and  Pollock. 
We  are  no  longer  Spanish  subjects  !  We  are  French  citi- 
zens,—  citizens  and  citizenesses  of  the  indivisible  French 
Republic.  Perhaps  I  do  not  translate  citoyennes  right ;  but 
that  is  what  you  and  Inez  are.  Is  not  that  news? 

I  only  knew  this  last  night.  There  are  not  ten  men  in 
Paris  who  know  it.  But,  by  a  secret  article  in  a  treaty 
made  in  Spain  last  month,  this  imbecile  King  of  Spain  has 
given  all  Louisiana  back  to  France.  There  !  does  not  that 
make  your  hair  stand  on  end? 

Of  course,  dear  Eunice,  if  there  should  be  any  breath  of 
war  between  the  two  countries,  your  visit  must  end  at  once. 
Heaven  knows  when  you  will  hear  from  me ;  but  act 
promptly.  Do  not  be  caught  among  those  Mexicans  when 
the  Dons  are  fighting  the  Monsieurs.  But  I  think  there 
will  be  no  war  before  we  are  well  home.  When  war  comes 
I  am  glad  we  are  on  the  side  that  always  wins. 

Roland  will  tell  you  in  his  letter  in  what  scene  of  vanity 
I  picked  up  my  information.  If  I  can  I  shall  add  more ; 
but  I  must  now  sign  myself, 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

SILAS  PERRY. 

ROLAND  PERRY  TO  INEZ  PERRY. 

PASSY,  near  PARIS,  Nov.  16,  1800. 

DEAR  LITTLE  SISTER,  —  Father  has  left  me  his  letter  to 
read  and  seal,  and  has  bidden  me  give  you  all  the  par- 

'3 


1 94  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

ticulars  of  his  triumphs  at  court.  I  tell  him  that  nobody  has 
made  such  an  impression  as  he,  since  Ben  Franklin.  It  has 
all  been  very  droll ;  and,  when  I  see  you,  I  can  make  you 
understand  it  better  than  I  can  write  it.  To  be  brief,  papa 
is  what  they  call  here  "  un  grand  sue ces" 

He  says,  and  you  say,  that  I  have  not  written  enough 
about  how  I  spend  my  time.  I  can  see  that  he  is  surprised 
at  knowing  the  chances  I  have  for  good  society.  But  it  has 
all  come  about  simply  enough.  When  I  came  here,  M. 
Beauharnais,  as  you  know,  welcomed  me  as  cordially  as  a 
man  could ;  and,  when  there  was  an  off-day  at  school,  they 
made  me  at  home  there.  Just  as  soon  as  Eugene  entered 
at  the  Polytechnic  —  well,  I  knew  the  ways  a  little  better 
than  he  did.  As  dear  old  Ransom  used  to  say,  "  I  had  the 
hang  of  the  schoolhouse."  Anyway,  he  took  to  me,  and  I 
was  always  glad  to  help  the  boy.  You  see,  they  called  him 
an  American,  because  of  his  father  and  mother :  so,  as  the 
senior  American  in  r  Ecole,  I  had  to  thrash  one  or  two 
fellows  who  were  hard  upon  him.  Now  that  he  is  one  of 
the  young  heroes  of  Egypt,  I  have  reason  to  be  proud  of 
my  protfgL  I  only  wish  I  had  gone  with  them.  Well,  if 
I  have  not  told  you  of  every  call  I  have  made  there,  —  I 
mean  at  his  mother's,  —  it  is  because  it  has  been  quite  a 
matter  of  course  in  my  life.  When  Eugene  and  the  general 
were  both  away,  there  were  many  reasons  why  I  should  be 
glad  to  be  of  service  to  her ;  and  she  has  never  forgotten 
them. 

Well,  when  papa  came,  I  told  him  that  his  first  visit  must 
be  to  Mme.  Buonaparte  at  Malmaison ;  and  he  must  thank 
her,  if  he  meant  to  thank  any  one,  for  my  happy  life  here. 
You  know  how  papa  would  act.  He  said  he  was  not  going 
to  pay  court  to  First  Consuls,  and  put  on  court  dresses. 
Some  fool  had  told  him  great  lies  about  the  state  at 


or,  Show  your  Passports  195 

Malmaison.  I  told  him,  if  I  did  not  know  how  to  take  my 
own  father  to  see  a  friend  of  mine,  I  did  not  know  any- 
thing. He  was  very  funny.  He  asked  if  he  need  not  be 
powdered.  I  told  him,  No.  I  told  him  to  put  on  his  best 
coat,  and  go  as  he  would  go  to  a  wedding  at  Squam  Bay. 

Inez,  he  was  very  handsome.  He  was  perfectly  dressed, 
—  you  know  he  would  be,  —  and  his  hair,  which  is  the  least 
bit  more  gray  than  I  remember  it,  was  very  distingue  in  the 
midst  of  all  those  heads  of  white  powder.  We  drove  out 
to  Malmaison,  and  I  can  tell  you  we  had  a  lovely  time.  I 
was  as  proud  as  I  could  be.  There  is  not  much  fuss  there, 
ever,  about  getting  in ;  and  with  me,  —  well,  they  all  know 
me,  you  know,  —  and  the  old  ones  have,  since  I  was  a  boy. 
By  good  luck,  Madame  was  alone  (you  know  we  say 
Madame  now,  without  having  our  heads  cut  off) .  She  was 
alone,  and  I  presented  papa.  She  was  so  pleased  !  Inez, 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  pleased  she  was.  You  see,  she  does 
not  often  see  people  of  sense,  who  have  any  knowledge  of 
the  islands,  or  of  her  father  and  mother,  or  her  husband's 
friends.  Then  it  was  clear  enough,  in  two  minutes,  that 
papa  must  have  been  of  real  service  to  Major  Beauharnais 
and  to  her,  which  he  had  never  told  me  of.  He  lent  her 
money,  perhaps,  when  she  was  poor,  —  or  something.  My 
dear  Inez,  she  treated  papa  with  a  sort  of  welcome  I  have 
never  seen  her  give  to  any  human  being. 

Well,  right  in  the  midst  of  this,  who  should  come  in  but 
the  Gen.  Buonaparte  himself,  the  First  Consul,  boots  muddy, 
and  face  all  alive  !  He  had  ridden  out  from  the  Thuilleries. 
He  looked  a  little  amazed,  —  I  thought  a  little  mad.  But 
Mme.  Josephine  has  tact  enough.  " Mon  ami"  she  said 
to  him,  "  here  is  an  American,  my  oldest  and  best  friend. 
I  present  to  you  Mons.  Perry,  —  the  best  friend  of  the 
Vicomte,  and  but  for  whom  I  should  never  have  been  here. 


196  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Mons.  Perry,  you  had  the  right  to  be  the  godfather  of 
Eugene." 

Dear  papa  bowed,  and  gave  the  First  Consul  his  hand, 
and  said  he  hoped  he  was  well.  Was  not  that  magnificent? 
Oh,  Inez,  it  was  ravishing  to  see  him  !  The  consul  was  a 
little  amazed,  I  think ;  but  he  is  a  man  of  immense  pene- 
tration and  immense  sense.  So  is  papa.  The  general 
asked  him  at  once  about  Martinique  and  all  the  islands, 
and  Toussaint  and  St.  Domingo,  and  everything.  Well, 
in  two  minutes,  you  know,  papa  told  him  more  than  all 
their  old  reports  and  despatches  would  tell  him  in  a  month, 
—  more,  indeed,  than  they  knew. 

Well,  the  general  was  delighted.  He  took  papa  over  to 
a  sofa,  and  there  they  sat  and  sat ;  and,  Inez,  there  they  sat 
and  sat ;  and  they  talked  for  two  hours.  What  do  you 
think  of  that  ?  People  kept  coming  in ;  and  there  was 
poor  I  talking  to  Madame,  and  to  half  the  finest  women  in 
France ;  and  everybody  was  looking  into  the  corner,  and 
wondering  who  "  PAmericain  magnifique "  was,  whom  the 
consul  had  got  hold  of.  Madame  sent  them  some  coffee. 
But  nobody  dared  to  interrupt ;  and  at  last  Gen.  Buona- 
parte rose  and  laughed,  and  said,  "  Madame  will  never  for- 
give me  for  my  boots ;  "  but  he  made  papa  promise  to 
come  again  last  night.  Now,  last  night,  you  know,  was 
one  of  the  regular  court  receptions,  —  one  of  the  Malmaison 
ones,  I  mean.  You  know  the  state  receptions  are  at  the 
Thuilleries.  Of  this  I  must  take  another  sheet  to  tell  you. 

When  Inez  read  this  letter,  she  said  to  her  aunt, — 
"Do  you  know  what  Malmaison  is?     It  is  not  a 

very  nice  name." 

"  It  must   be  their   country-house :   read  on,   and 

perhaps  you  will  see." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  197 

I  have  shown  papa  what  I  have  written.  He  laughs  at 
my  account  of  him,  and  says  it  is  all  trash.  But  it  is  all 
gospel  true,  and  shall  stand.  He  also  says  that  you  will 
not  know  what  Malmaison  is.  Malmaison  is  an  elegant 
place,  about  ten  miles  from  Paris,  which  Mme.  Buonaparte 
bought,  —  oh  !  two  years  or  more  ago.  She  carries  with 
her  her  old  island  tastes,  and  is  very  fond  of  flowers ;  and 
at  this  house  with  the  bad  name  she  has  made  exquisite 
gardens.  She  really  does  a  good  deal  of  gardening  her- 
self, —  that  is,  such  gardening  as  you  women  do.  I  have 
gone  round  with  her  for  an  hour  together,  carrying  strings 
and  a  watering-pot,  helping  Mile.  Hortense  —  who,  you 
know,  is  just  your  age  —  to  help  her  mother. 

Well,  so  much  for  Malmaison. 

Papa  had  really  had  what  he  calls  a  "very  good  time" 
talking  with  the  First  Consul.  He  says  he  is  the  most 
sensible  man  he  has  seen  since  he  bade  Mr.  Pollock 
good-by.  I  am  afraid  I  did  not  take  much  pains  to  tell 
him  that  the  grand  reception  of  last  night  was  to  be  a  very 
different  thing  from  that  informal  visit ;  for,  if  I  had  told 
him,  he  never  would  have  gone.  But  when  he  was  once 
there,  why,  he  could  not  turn  back,  you  know. 

And  it  was  very  brilliant.  Indeed,  since  the  battle  of 
Marengo,  nothing  can  be  too  brilliant  for  everybody's  ex- 
pectations; and,  although  Malmaison  is  nothing  to  the 
Thuilleries,  yet  &fete  there  is  very  charming.  When  papa 
saw  lackeys  standing  on  the  steps,  and  found  that  our 
carriage  had  to  wait  its  turn,  and  that  our  names  were  to 
be  called  from  sentry  to  sentry,  he  would  gladly  have  turned 
and  fled.  But,  like  a  devoted  son,  I  explained  to  him  that 
this  would  be  cowardly.  I  reminded  him  that  he  had 
promised  Gen.  Buonaparte  to  come,  and  that  his  word  was 
as  good  as  his  bond.  Before  he  knew  it,  a  chamberlain 


198  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

had  us  in  hand ;  and  we  passed  along  the  brilliant  line  to 
be  presented  in  our  turn. 

Inez,  dear,  I  confess  to  you  that  I  had  an  elegant  little 
queue,  and  a  soup^on  of  powder  upon  my  hair.  So  had 
most  of  the  gentlemen  around  me.  But,  Gen.  Buona- 
parte hates  powder,  they  say,  when  it  is  not  gunpowder ; 
and  he  and  dear  papa  had  no  flake  of  it  on  the  locks,  which 
they  wore  as  nature  made  them.  They  were  the  handsom- 
est men  in  that  room,  —  I  who  write,  not  excepted.  Now, 
my  dear  sister,  never  tell  me  that  I  am  vain  again. 

Well,  when  our  turn  came,  Mme.  Buonaparte  gave  papa 
her  hand,  which  is  very  unusual,  and  fairly  detained  him 
every  time  he  offered  to  move  on.  This  left  me,  who  came 
next,  to  talk  to  Mile.  Hortense,  who  was  charmante.  She 
never  looked  so  well.  I  did  not  care  how  long  the  general 
and  madame  held  papa.  I  asked  Hortense  about  the  last 
game  of  Prison  Bars,  which  is  all  the  rage  at  Malmaison. 
I  engaged  her  for  the  third  dance.  I  promised  her  some 
Cherokee  roses,  and  I  must  write  to  Turner  about  them. 
She  asked  why  papa  did  not  bring  you,  and  I  said  you 
were  to  enter  a  Spanish  convent.  She  guessed  by  my  eye 
that  this  was  nonsense,  and  then  we  had  a  deal  of  fun 
about  it.  The  chamberlain  was  fuming  and  swearing  in- 
wardly ;  but  the  general  and  Mme.  Buonaparte  would  not 
let  papa  go  on.  Papa  was  splendid  !  You  would  have 
thought  he  had  been  at  court  all  his  life.  At  last  he  tore 
himself  away.  I  bowed  to  Madame,  who  smiled.  I  bowed 
to  the  First  Consul,  and  he  said,  "Ah,  monsieur,  Eugene  est 
au  desespoir  de  vous  voir"  I  smiled  and  bowed  again. 
And  so  papa  and  I  were  free. 

But  there  were  ever  so  many  people  looking  on,  and  I 
was  so  proud  to  present  to  him  this  and  that  of  my  friends  ! 
I  brought  Lagrange  to  him,  who  taught  us  our  mathe- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  199 

matics  when  I  was  in  the  Polytechnic.  Lagrange  brought 
up  La  Place,  who  is  another  of  our  great  men.  I  presented 
him  to  Mme.  Berthollet,  and  to  Mme.  Campan,  who  is  a 
favorite  here,  and  to  Mme.  Morier ;  and  they  all  asked  him 
such  funny  questions  !  You  know  they  all  think  that  we 
live  close  by  Niagara,  and  breakfasted  every  day  with  Gen. 
Washington,  and  that  all  of  us  who  were  old  enough 
fought  in  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  while  of  course  we  were 
playmates  with  Mme.  Buonaparte. 

At  last  the  dancing  came.  The  rooms  are  not  very 
large,  but  large  enough ;  and  the  music,  —  oh,  Inez  dear  !  it 
was  ravissante.  The  First  Consul  took  out  a  hideous  crea- 
ture :  I  forget  her  name ;  but  she  was  a  returned  'emigrte,  of 
a  great  royalist  family,  who  had  buried  her  prejudices,  or 
pretended  to.  Gen.  Junot  took  out  Madame :  that  was 
a  couple  worth  seeing.  I  danced  with  Mile.  Poitevin,  a 
lovely  girl ;  but  I  must  tell  of  her  another  time.  O  Inez  ! 
the  First  Consul  dances  —  well  —  horridly  !  He  hates  to 
dance.  He  called  for  that  stupid  old  "Monaco,"  as  he 
always  does,  because  he  cannot  make  so  many  mistakes  in 
it.  Well,  he  only  danced  this  first  time  ;  and  I  had  charm- 
ing dances  with  Mile.  Julie  Ramey,  and  then  with  the 
lovely  Hortense.  Was  not  I  the  envied  of  the  evening  then  ! 

It  was  then  that,  looking  round  to  see  how  papa  fared, 
Mile.  Hortense  caught  my  eye,  and  said  so  roguishly,  "  Ah, 
monsieur,  qtf  est-ce  qui  vous  epouvante  !  we  will  take  care  of 
your  papa.  See,  the  consul  himself  has  charge  of  him."  True 
enough,  the  consul  had  found  him,  and  led  him  across  to  a 
quiet  place  by  the  conservatory  door;  and,  Inez,  they 
talked  the  whole  evening  again. 

And  it  was  in  this  talk  —  when  papa  had  been  explaining 
to  him  what  a  sin  and  shame  it  was  that  so  fine  a  country 
as  Louisiana  should  have  been  given  over  to  that  beast  of  a 


200  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Charles  Fourth  and  that  miserable  Godoy,  only  I  suppose 
he  put  it  rather  better  —  that  the  consul  smiled,  tapped 
his  snuff-box,  gave  papa  snuff,  and  said,  "  Mons.  Perry,  you 
Americans  can  keep  secrets.  You  may  count  yourselves 
republicans  from  to-day."  Papa  did  not  know  what  he 
meant,  and  said  so  plumply. 

Then  he  told  papa  that  he  had  received  an  express  from 
Madrid  that  very  morning.  Inez,  an  article  is  signed  by 
which  Louisiana  is  given  back  to  France.  Think  of  that ! 
The  Orleans  girls  may  dance  French  dances  and  sing 
French  songs  as  much  as  they  please ;  and  old  Casa  Calvo 
may  go  hang  himself. 

Only,  Inez,  you  must  not  tell  any  one;  it  is  a  secret 
article,  and  the  First  Consul  said  that  no  public  announce- 
ment of  any  sort  was  to  be  made. 

Now,  after  that,  who  says  it  is  not  profitable  to  go  to 
court  ?  I  am  sure  papa  will  never  say  so  again.  But  the 
paper  is  all  out,  and  the  oil  is  all  out  in  my  new  argand. 
Salute  dear  Aunt  Eunice  with  my  heart's  love;  and  believe 
me,  ma  chere  saur, 

Votre  frere  ires  devoue, 

ROLAND  PERRY, 


CHAPTER   XVI 

NEWS  ?      WHAT  NEWS  ? 

"  News !  great  news !  in  the  *  London  Gazette ' ! 
But  what  the  news  is,  I  will  not  tell  you  yet ; 
For,  if  by  misfortune  my  news  I  should  tell, 
Why,  never  a  '  London  Gazette '  should  I  sell." 

Cries  of  London. 

THESE  letters  from  Paris  did  not,  of  course,  reach 
Eunice  and  Inez  till  the  short  winter  —  if  winter  it 


or,  Show  your  Passports  201 

may  be  called  —  of  Texas  was  over;  and  February 
found  them  enjoying  the  wonders  and  luxuries  of 
that  early  spring. 

The  surprising  news  with  which  both  letters  ended 
gave  them  enough  food  for  talk  when  they  were 
alone ;  and  the  White  Hawk,  almost  their  constant 
companion,  saw  that  some  subject  of  unusual  serious- 
ness had  come  in,  —  a  subject,  too,  which,  with  her 
scanty  notions  of  European  politics,  she  could  hardly 
be  expected  to  understand.  In  her  pretty  broken 
English  she  would  challenge  them  to  tell  her  what 
they  read  and  what  they  said. 

"  Te-reaty  —  what  is  te-reaty,  my  sister?  F-erance 
—  what  is  F-erance,  my  aunty?  " 

But  to  make  the  girl  understand  how  the  signing 
of  a  piece  of  parchment  by  an  imbecile  liar  in  a 
Spanish  palace  should  affect  the  status,  the  happi- 
ness, or  the  social  life  of  the  two  people  dearest  to 
her  in  the  world,  was  simply  impossible. 

The  ladies  were  both  glad  to  receive  such  news. 
Everybody  in  Orleans  would  be  glad,  excepting  the 
little  coterie  of  the  governor's  court.  Everybody  in 
America  would  be  glad.  Better  that  Louisiana  should 
be  in  the  hands  of  a  strong  power  than  a  weak  one. 
But  still  their  secret  gave  the  ladies  anxiety.  If,  as 
Silas  Perry  had  suggested  —  if  the  dice-box  should 
throw  war  between  Spain  and  France,  here  they  were 
in  San  Antonio  at  the  beginning  only  of  a  visit  which 
was  meant  to  last  a  year.  And,  worse,  if  the  dice-box 
should  throw  war  between  France  and  England,  every- 
body knew  that  an  English  squadron  would  pounce 
on  Orleans,  and  their  country  would  be  changed  again. 


202  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"  I  told  Captain  Nolan  one  day,"  said  Inez,  in  mock 
grief,  which  concealed  much  real  feeling,  "  that  I  was 
a  girl  without  a  country.  I  seem  to  be  likely  to  be 
a  girl  of  three  countries,  if  not  of  four." 

Three  months  of  garrison  life,  with  such  contriv- 
ances as  the  ladies  around  them  had  devised  to  while 
away  time,  had  given  to  all  three  of  the  new-comers 
a  set  of  habits  quite  different  from  those  of  the  home 
at  Orleans.  The  presence  of  Cordero  and  of  Herrara 
there,  both  remarkable  men,  seemed  almost  of  course. 
Eunice  Perry  was  right  in  saying  that  neither  of  them 
belonged  there.  But  they  both  liked  the  residence, 
and,  still  more,  they  liked  each  other.  This  was  for- 
tunate for  our  friends ;  for  it  proved  that  in  Madame 
Herrara,  who  was  herself  an  English  lady  by  birth,  they 
found  a  charming  friend.  The  ladies  named  in  Miss 
Perry's  letter  to  her  brother  were  all  women  of  brill- 
iancy or  of  culture,  such  as  would  have  been  prizes  in 
any  society.  The  little  tertulias  of  the  winter  became, 
therefore,  parties  of  much  more  spirit  than  any  Eunice 
had  known,  even  in  the  larger  and  more  brilliant 
social  circle  of  Orleans ;  and  in  the  long  hours  of  the 
morning,  when  the  gentlemen  were  pretending  to 
drill  recruits,  or  to  lay  out  lines  for  imaginary  build- 
ings, or  otherwise  to  develop  the  town  which  the  gov- 
ernors wanted  to  make  here,  the  ladies  made  pleasant 
and  regular  occasions  for  meeting,  when  a  new  poem 
by  Valdez,  or  an  old  play  by  Lope  de  Vega,  enter- 
tained them  all  together. 

In  all  these  gatherings  the  Donna  Maria  Dolores, 
whom  our  fair  Inez  had  gone  so  far  West  to  see,  was, 
if  not  leader,  the  admired,  even  the  beloved,  centre 


or,  Show  your  Passports  203 

of  each  little  party.  Eunice  Perry  came  to  prize  her 
more  highly,  as  she  wondered  at  her  more  pro- 
foundly, with  every  new  and  quiet  interview  between 
them.  Her  figure  was  graceful ;  her  face  animated 
rather  than  beautiful ;  her  eyes  quick  and  expressive. 
There  was  something  contagious  in  her  welcome; 
and  so  sympathetic  was  she,  in  whatever  society,  that 
her  presence  in  any  tertulia  was  enough  to  put  the 
whole  company  at  ease,  —  certainly  to  lift  it  quite 
above  the  conventional  type  of  formal  Spanish  inter- 
course. There  were  in  the  garrison-circle  some 
officers'  wives  who  would  have  been  very  unfortunate 
but  for  Maria  Dolores.  Either  for  beauty,  or  wealth, 
or  something  less  explicable,  they  had  been  married 
by  men  of  higher  rank  than  their  own ;  and  now  they 
found  themselves  among  ladies  who  were  ladies,  and 
officers  most  of  whom  were  really  gentlemen,  while 
their  own  training  had  been  wholly  neglected,  and  they 
were  absolutely  in  the  crass  ignorance  of  a  Mexican 
peasant's  daughter  or  of  the  inmate  of  a  Moorish 
harem.  They  could  dress,  they  could  look  pretty, 
and  that  was  absolutely  all.  There  were  not  quite 
enough  of  them,  this  winter,  to  make  a  faction  of  their 
own,  and  send  the  others  to  Coventry.  Indeed,  the 
superior  rank,  as  it  happened,  of  Madame  Herrara, 
of  the  Senora  Valois,  and  of  Dofia  Maria  Dolores, 
to  say  nothing  of  others  who  have  been  named,  made 
this  impossible.  So  was  it  that  Dona  Maria  had 
her  opportunity,  and  used  it,  to  make  them  at  ease, 
and  to  see  that  they  were  not  excluded  from  the  little 
contrivances  by  which  the  winter  was  led  along.  She 
always  had  a  word  even  for  the  dullest  of  them.  A 


204  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

bit  of  embroidery,  or  some  goose-grease  for  a  child's 
throat,  or  a  message  to  Monte-Clovez,  something  or 
other  gave  importance,  for  the  moment,  even  to  a 
stupid  wax-doll,  who  had  perhaps  but  just  found  out 
she  was  a  fool,  and  had  not  found  out  what  she 
should  do  about  it. 

It  was  in  a  little  gathering,  rather  larger  than  was 
usual,  in  which  they  were  turning  over  two  or  three 
plays  of  Lope  de  Vega,  and  wondering  whether  they 
could  spur  the  gentlemen  up  to  act  one  with  them, 
that  Eunice  and  Inez  both  received  a  sudden  shock 
of  surprise,  which  made  them  listen  with  all  their 
ears,  and  look  away  from  each  other  with  terrible 
determination. 

"Who  shall  take  Alfonso?"  said  the  eager  Ma- 
dame Zuloaga. 

"  Oh,  let  Mr.  Lonsdale  take  Alfonso  !  He  is  just  mys- 
terious enough !  And  then  he  has  so  little  to  say." 

"  But  what  he  does  say  would  kill  us  with  laughing; 
his  English-Spanish  is  so  funny !  Do  the  English 
really  think  they  know  our  language  better  than 
we  do?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  should  never  advise  him,  But  any- 
body can  take  Alfonso.  Ask  Captain  Garcia  to  take 
it.  —  Luisa,  do  you  ask  him:  he  will  do  anything 
you  ask." 

The  fair  Luisa  said  nothing,  but  blushed  and 
giggled. 

One  of  the  wax-doll  people  spoke  up  bluntly,  and, 
in  a  language  not  absolutely  Castilian,  said, — 

"  Captain  Garcia  will  be  gone.  His  troop  is  ordered 
out  against  Nolano." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  205 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  two  or  three  of  the  younger  ladies. 
And  only  Eunice  cared  whether  the  troop  went 
against  Apaches  or  Comanches,  or  to  relieve  a  garri- 
son in  New  Mexico,  so  it  was  to  go :  it  was  the  loss 
of  partners  for  which  they  grieved,  not  any  particular 
danger  to  friends  or  to  enemies. 

Eunice,  however,  picked  up  the  dropped  subject. 

"  Did  you  say  they  went  against  Nolan?  " 

"Why,  yes,  or  rather  no.  They  go  to  take  the 
place  at  Chihuahua,  you  know,  of  the  two  troops  who 
go,  you  know,  against  the  Americanos.  Who  go? 
or  are  they  now  gone,  Dona  Carlota?  Was  it  not 
you  who  told  me?" 

No,  it  was  not  Dona  Carlota  who  had  told  her; 
and  soon  it  proved  that  nobody  should  have  told  her, 
and  that  she  should  not  have  told  what  she  had 
heard.  De  Nava  had  intentionally  sent  his  troopers 
from  distant  Chihuahua,  because  the  Americanos 
would  not  watch  that  city ;  and  he  had  not  meant  to 
give  any  sign  of  activity  eastward  in  San  Antonio, 
which  they  would  watch.  The  truth  was,  he  was 
jealous  and  suspicious  both  of  Cordero  and  of  Her- 
rara,  though  they  were  his  countrymen. 

But  by  some  oversight  a  letter  had  been  read  in 
presence  of  the  wax-doll,  which  she  should  never 
have  heard;  and  thus  the  secret  of  secrets,  which 
Herrara  and  Cordero  and  Barelo  had  preserved  most 
jealously,  was  blurted  out  in  the  midst  of  four-and- 
twenty  officers'  wives. 

So  soon  as  the  ladies  parted,  Eunice  made  it  her 
business  to  find  the  husband  of  her  sister,  and  spoke 
to  him  very  frankly.  She  told  him  that  she  knew 


206  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

Nolan,  and  knew  him  well ;  that  he  even  accompanied 
them  for  a  day  or  two  on  their  expedition.  She  told 
him  on  what  cordial  terms  he  was  with  all  the  Span- 
ish governors  of  Orleans.  She  ridiculed  the  idea  of 
his  making  war  with  a  little  company  of "  grooms 
and  stablers  "  (for  into  Spanish  words  of  such  force 
was  she  obliged  to  translate  the  horse-hunters  of  his 
party)  ;  and  she  explained  to  Major  Barelo,  that, 
though  the  people  of  the  West  were  eager  to  open 
the  Mississippi,  the  very  last  thing  they  wanted  was 
to  incense  the  military  commanders  of  Mexico. 

Major  Barelo  was  an  accomplished  officer  of  Euro- 
pean experience,  and  a  man  of  rare  good  sense.  He 
heard  Eunice  with  sympathy  all  through,  and  then 
he  said  to  her,  — 

"  I  can  trust  you  as  I  can  trust  my  wife.  You  are 
right  in  saying  that  this  folly  is  the  most  preposter- 
ous extravagance  that  has  crossed  any  ruler's  brain 
since  the  days  of  Don  Quixote. 

"  You  are  right  in  saying  that  Don  Pedro  de  Nava 
gave  to  this  very  Nolan  a  pass,  not  to  say  an  invitation, 
to  carry  on  this  very  trade.  Why,  we  know  him  here : 
he  has  been  here  again  and  again. 

"  But  it  seems  that  you  do  not  know  that  De  Nava 
has  been  told  to  change  his  policy.  New  kings,  new 
measures.  He  is  a  Pharaoh  who  does  not  know  your 
Joseph,  my  dear  sister. 

"  He  does  not  dare  give  his  commands  to  us.  We 
have  too  much  sense.  We  have  too  much  civilization. 
We  have  too  much  of  the  new  century.  Herrara  or 
Cordero  would  laugh  his  plan  to  scorn.  Far  from 
incensing  the  Kentuckianos,  they  would  let  the  cap- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  207 

tain  slip  through  their  fingers,  and  wisely.  We  have 
had  a  plenty  of  despatches  from  Nacogdoches  about 
him  ;  but  we  light  our  cigars  with  them,  my  dear 
sister." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Eunice  eagerly;  "  but  what  does 
De  Nava  do?  Is  he  sending  out  an  army?  "  Then 
she  saw  she  was  too  vehement:  she  collected  herself, 
and  said,  "You  see,  my  dear  brother,  I  know  the 
American  people.  I  know  that,  if  injustice  is  done, 
there  is  danger  of  war." 

"  And  so  do  I,"  said  Barelo  sadly.  "  And  when 
the  war  comes,  now  or  fifty  years  hence,  who  has  the 
best  chances  on  these  prairies,  —  your  Kentucky 
giants,  or  my  master  four  thousand  miles  away  in  the 
Escorial?" 

"Do  you  know  when  the  army  started?"  said 
Eunice,  giving  him  time  to  pause. 

"  Army  !  there  is  no  army,  —  a  wretched  hundred 
or  two  of  lancers.  Oh !  they  left,  I  think  they  left 
Chihuahua  just  before  Christmas.  We  heard  of  them 
at  El  Paso  last  week.  That  was  when  we  got  this 
order  for  two  troops  of  the  queen's  regiment  to  go 
back  to  the  commandant  to  take  their  places."  And 
then  he  added,  "  I  am  as  much  annoyed  as  you  can 
be,  —  more.  But  a  soldier  is  a  soldier." 

"  A  soldier  is  a  soldier,"  said  Eunice  almost  fiercely, 
to  Inez  afterwards,  when  she  told  her  of  this  conver- 
sation, "  and  a  woman,  alas,  is  a  woman.  How  can  we 
put  poor  Nolan  on  his  guard,  —  tell  him  that  these 
brigands  are  on  his  track?  If  only  we  had  known  it 
sooner ! " 

How  indeed  !     For  William  Harrod  had  left  them 


20 8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

so  soon  as  San  Antonio  was  in  sight.  He  had  called 
off  with  him  Richards  and  King  and  Adams,  and  had 
said  lightly,  in  his  really  tender  parting  from  Inez  and 
Eunice,  that  he  should  be  with  Nolan  in  five  days' 
time.  He  counted  without  his  host,  alas  !  but  of  this 
Eunice  and  Inez  knew  nothing  till  long  after. 

"Do  you  believe  Ransom  could  slip  through?" 
said  Eunice  thoughtfully. 

"  He  could  and  he  could  not,"  said  Inez.  "  In  the 
first  place,  he  would  not  go.  The  Inquisition  could 
not  make  him  go.  He  is  here  to  take  care  of  you 
and  me:  if  you  and  I  want  to  go,  he  will  take 
us;  and  we  shall  arrive  safely,  and  Nolan,  dear 
fellow,  will  be  saved.  But,  if  we  think  we  cannot 
tell  Aunt  Dolores  that  we  want  to  go  up  to  the 
Upper  Brassos,  why,  as  you  know,  Ransom  will 
not  budge."  And  the  girl  smiled  sadly  enough 
through  her  tears. 

"  Me  will  go,"  said  White  Hawk,  who  was  looking 
from  one  to  the  other  as  they  spoke,  judging  by 
their  faces,  rather  than  their  words,  what  they  were 
saying. 

"Where  will  me  go?"  said  Inez,  hugging  her  and 
kissing  her.  The  wonder  and  depth  of  White 
Hawk's  love  for  her  was  always  a  new  joy  and  new 
surprise  to  Inez,  who,  perhaps,  had  not  been  for- 
tunate in  the  friends  whom  her  schoolgirl  experi- 
ences had  made  for  her  among  her  own  sex. 

"  Me  go  on  horse-trail ;  me  go  up  through  mesquit 
country  —  find  prairie  country;  come  up  through 
wood  three  day,  four  day,  five  day  —  White  Wolf 
River;  me  swim  White  Wolf  River;  more  woods  — 


or,  Show  your  Passports  209 

more  woods  five  day,  six,  seven  day  —  no  matter 
how  much  day;  me  find  Harrod,  find  King,  find 
Richards,  find  Blackburn,  find  Nolan  —  find  other 
plenty  white  men,  good  white  men,  your  white  men 
—  hunt  horses,  plenty  horses  —  plenty  white  men." 

"  You  witch !  "  cried  Inez ;  "  and  how  do  you 
know  that?" 

White  Hawk  laughed  with  the  quiet  Indian  laugh, 
which  Inez  said  was  like  Ransom's  choicest  expres- 
sion of  satisfaction. 

"  Know  it  with  my  ears  —  know  it  with  my  eyes. 
See  it  Hear  it.  Think  it.  Know  it  all  —  know 
it  all." 

"  And  you  would  go  back  to  those  horrid  woods 
and  those  fearful  Indians,  whom  you  hate  so  and 
dread  so,  for  the  love  of  your  poor  Inez  !  "  Inez  was 
beside  herself  now,  and  could  not  speak  for  crying. 

Of  course  White  Hawk's  proposal  could  not  be 
heard  to  for  an  instant.  But  all  the  same:  it  had 
its  fruit,  as  courage  will. 

That  afternoon  there  was  some  grand  parade  of 
the  little  garrison,  so  that  the  cavaliers  whom  Eunice 
and  Inez  relied  upon  most  often  were  detained  at 
their  posts.  But  Eunice  proposed,  that,  rather  than 
lose  their  regular  exercise,  they  should  ride  with  the 
attendance  of  Ransom,  and  rely  on  meeting  the 
major  and  the  other  gentlemen  as  they  returned. 
The  day  was  lovely;  and  they  took  a  longer  ride 
than  was  usual,  past  the  Alamo  and  up  the  river- 
side. 

Six  or  seven  miles  distant  from  the  Presidio, 
as  they  came  out  on  a  lovely  opening,  which  they 

14 


2 1  o  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

had  made  their  object,  they  found,  to  their  surprise, 
a  little  camp  of  Indians,  who  had  established  them- 
selves there  as  if  for  a  day  or  two.  There  was 
nothing  unusual  in  the  sight;  and  the  riding  party 
would  hardly  have  stopped,  but  that  the  little  red 
children  came  screaming  after  them,  with  tones  quite 
different  from  the  ordinary  beggar-whine,  which  is 
much  the  same  with  Bedouins,  with  lazzaroni,  and 
with  Indians.  White  Hawk,  of  course,  first  caught 
their  meaning.  "  Friends,  friends,"  she  said  laughing, 
—  "old  friends,"  as  she  put  her  hand  upon  Inez's 
hand  to  arrest  her  in  the  fast  gallop  in  which  she 
was  hurrying  along. 

Inez  thought  White  Hawk  meant  they  were  friends 
of  hers,  and  for  a  moment  drew  bridle.  Eunice  and 
Ransom  stopped  also. 

"  No,  no  !  Friends,  —  your  friends,  Inez,  — your 
friends."  And,  as  Inez  turned,  indeed,  she  saw 
waved  in  triumph  a  scarf  which  was  no  common 
piece  of  Indian  finery;  and  which,  in  a  minute  more, 
she  saw  was  the  scarf  she  had  given  to  a  child 
on  the  levee  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  very  first  week 
of  their  voyaging. 

"  Have  the  wretches  come  all  the  way  here?"  she 
said,  surprised ;  and  she  stopped,  almost  uncon- 
sciously now,  to  see  what  they  would  say. 

To  her  amusement,  and  to  Eunice's  as  well,  with 
great  rapidity  and  much  running  to  and  fro  from 
lodge  to  lodge,  there  were  produced,  from  wrap- 
pings as  many  as  if  they  had  been  diamonds  or 
rubies,  all  the  little  cuttings  of  paper  —  horses, 
buffaloes,  dancing  boys  and  girls  —  with  which 


or,  Show  your  Passports  211 

Eunice  had  led  along  the  half-hour  while  they  were 
waiting  for  the  boatmen,  on  that  day  of  their  first 
adventure. 

She  smiled  graciously,  not  sorry  that  she  had  a 
good  horse  under  her  this  time,  and  acknowledged 
the  clamorous  homage  which  one  after  another  paid 
to  her.  Then,  remembering  her  new  advantage, 
she  asked  the  White  Hawk  to  interpret  for  her ;  and 
the  girl  had  no  difficulty  in  doing  so. 

Eunice  bade  her  tell  them  that  she  could  make 
them  no  buffaloes  now,  —  not  even  an  antelope ; 
but,  if  they  would  come  down  to  the  Presidio  the 
next  morning,  they  should  all  have  some  sugar. 

They  said  they  were  afraid  to  come  to  the  Pre- 
sidio :  one  of  their  people  had  been  flogged  there. 

A  grim  smile  appeared  on  Ransom's  face,  which 
implied,  to  those  who  knew  him,  a  wish  that  the 
same  treatment  had  gone  farther. 

"  Tell  them,  then,  that  I  will  send  them  some 
sugar,  and  send  them  some  antelopes,  if  they  will 
come  to-morrow  morning  to  the  Alamo ;"  and  the 
White  Hawk  told  them,  and  they  all  rode  on. 

"  Do  you  not  see,"  said  Eunice  quickly,  "  if  the 
White  Hawk  can  go  up  the  Brassos,  these  people 
can  go  up  there?  If  she  knows  the  way  she  can 
tell  them.  There  must  be  some  way  in  which  they 
can  take  a  token  or  a  letter." 

She  turned  her  horse,  so  soon  as  they  had  well 
passed  the  camp,  beckoned  Ransom  from  the  rear  to 
join  her,  and  bade  the  girls  fall  in  behind. 

Taking  up  the  road  homeward,  but  no  longer  gal- 
loping, or  even  trotting,  she  said  to  the  old  man,  — 


2 1  2  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"  Ransom,  Captain  Nolan  is  in  great  danger." 
"  Een  told  me  so,"  replied  he,  too  much  occupied 
with  anxious  thought  to  care  much  for  etiquette. 

"There  are  a  hundred  or  two  Spanish  troopers 
hunting  him,  if  they  have  not  found  him ;  and,  what 
is  worse,  they  mean  to  fight  him,  Ransom." 
"The  cap'n'll  give  'em  hell,  ma'am." 
"The  captain  will  fight  them  if  they  find  him; 
but,  Ransom,  they  must  not  find  him.  Ransom, 
I  don't  want  the  people  down  below  to  know  any- 
thing about  this;  but  to-morrow  morning  some 
of  these  Indians  must  start  with  a  letter  to  the 
captain ;  and  they  must  make  haste,  Ransom.  Will 
you  bring  it  out  here  before  daylight?" 

"  Yes,  'm.  But  it  ain't  no  use.  Can't  send  no 
letter.  Poor  set, —  liars,  all  on  um.  Show  the  letter 
to  the  priest  before  they  go.  Priest  got  hold  uv 
every  darn  one  on  um.  Tell  um  all  he  '11  roast  um 
all,  ef  they  go  nigh  white  man.  Liars  all  on  um,  — 
can't  send  no  letter.  'T  ain't  no  use." 

"Do  you  think  the  priest  knows  these  people?" 
"  Know  it,  jest  as  well  as  nothin'.  Hearn  um 
tell  at  market  to-day.  Old  Father  Jose*  cum;  and 
the  young  one,  black-haired  rascal,  he  cum  too ; 
cum  and  gin  um  a  picter-book,  and  cum  back  with 
five  beaver  and  three  antelope  skin  and  two  buffaloes. 
Gin  um  a  picter-book.  Hearn  all  about  it  at  market. 
All  liars  !  Injuns  is  liars;  priests  is  liars  too." 

Eunice  thought  of  tokens  which  messengers  had 
carried,  who  knew  not  what  they  bore.  She  longed 
to  tell  Ransom  some  story  of  Cyrus  or  of  Pyrrhus; 
but  she  contented  herself  with  saying, — 


or,  Show  your  Passports  2 1 3 

"  I  must  send  word."  And  she  called  Inez  to 
her,  and  the  White  Hawk. 

"  Ma-ry,  can  I  send  these  people  to  the  captain? 
Can  you  tell  them  how  to  go?" 

"Tell  —  yes  —  now;"  and  the  girl  checked  her 
horse,  as  if  to  return  with  the  message. 

"  No,  not  now,  Ma-ry.  Can  I  write?  Will  these 
people  take  the  letter?" 

"Give  sugar,  —  much  sugar,  —  take  letter.  Take 
it,  throw  it  in  river,  throw  it  in  fire.  All  laugh.  Eat 
sugar,  throw  letter  away.  All  lie.  All  steal. 

"  Give  sugar,  little  sugar,  —  give  letter, —  letter  say 
Nolan  send  other  letter.  Other  letter  come,  you  give 
sugar,  —  oh,  give  heap  sugar!  heap  sugar,  —  see?" 

"Yes,  yes,  —  I  see,"  said  Eunice.  "When  they 
come  back  with  other  letter  from  Captain  Nolan,  I 
will  pay  them  with  sugar." 

"  See  —  yes  —  yes  —  see  ?     Heap  sugar  all  come." 

Then  she  opened  and  shut  her  hands  quickly. 

"  Five,  five,  five  days,  heap  sugar.  Five,  five,  five, 
five  days,  little  heap  sugar.  Five,  five,  five,  five,  five, 
five  days,  gourd  of  sugar.  More  days,  no  sugar,  no 
sugar,  bad  Indian.  Nolan  dead.  No  sugar  at  all." 

"  Ma-ry,  these  people  know  the  priest.  Father  Jose* 
they  know.  Father  Jeronimo  they  know.  Priests 
do  not  love  Nolan.  Will  they  show  the  priest  my 
letter?" 

The  girl  took  the  question  in  an  instant,  —  took  it, 
it  would  seem,  before  it  was  asked.  Her  face  changed. 

"  Show  old  White  Head  letter,  —  White  Head  tear 
letter,  burn  letter." 

But  in  an  instant  she  added,  — 


2 1 4  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

"  White  Hawk  send  skin.  Old  White  Head  no 
read  skin."  And  she  flung  up  her  head  like  a  prin- 
cess, proud  of  her  superior  accomplishment.  Eunice 
took  her  idea  at  once,  praised  her,  and  encouraged 
it.  The  girl  meant  that,  if  she  traced  on  the  back  of 
an  antelope  skin  one  of  the  hieroglyphic  pictures  of 
the  Indian  tribes,  Nolan  would  understand  the  warn- 
ing she  gave ;  while  the  average  Franciscan,  with  all 
his  accomplishments,  would  let  it  pass  without  com- 
prehending its  meaning. 

In  such  discussions,  on  an  easy  gallop,  they  returned 
homeward.  As  they  approached  the  garrison,  they 
met  Mr.  Lonsdale,  the  stranger  whom  the  gossiping 
party  of  ladies  had  pronounced  so  mysterious. 
Eunice,  to  say  the  truth,  was  much  of  their  mind. 
Who  Mr.  Lonsdale  was,  what  he  was,  and  why  he 
was  there,  no  one  knew.  And,  while  she  disliked  the 
gossiping  habit  of  most  of  the  people  around  her, 
she  did  not  like  to  be  in  daily  intercourse  with  a  man 
who  might  be  a  spy  from  the  headquarters  at  the 
City  of  Mexico,  might  be  an  agent  of  the  King  of 
England,  might  be  anything  the  Mexican  ladies  said 
he  was. 

For  all  this,  he  and  the  ladies  were  on  terms  ex- 
ternally friendly.  He  stopped  as  they  approached, 
and  asked  permission  to  join  their  party,  which 
Eunice  of  course  granted  cordially.  He  turned, 
and  rode  with  her.  The  two  girls  dropped  behind. 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  said,  — 

"  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  the  bearer  of  bad  news, 
Miss  Perry.  Perhaps  you  are  indifferent  to  my  news. 
But  I  came  out  hoping  to  meet  you," 


or,  Show  your  Passports  215 

And  he  stopped  as  if  hesitating  anew. 

Eunice  said,  with  a  shade  of  dignity,  that  she  was 
much  obliged  to  him. 

"  I  thought —  I  supposed  —  I  did  not  know,"  said 
the  Englishman,  with  more  even  than  the  usual  diffi- 
culty of  his  countrymen  in  opening  a  conversation, 
"  you  may  not  have  heard  that  a  military  force  is  in 
the  upper  valleys,  looking  for  the  American  horse- 
hunters." 

What  did  this  man  mean?  Was  he  a  quiet  emis- 
sary from  the  provincial  capital,  whose  business  it 
was  to  gain  information  about  poor  Nolan?  Was  he 
trying  to  get  a  crumb  from  Miss  Perry?  She  was 
quite  on  her  guard.  She  felt  quite  sure  of  her  ground, 
too,  —  that  she  could  foil  him,  by  as  simple  an  arti- 
fice as  —  the  truth. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Lonsdale !  I  have  heard  this.  I 
heard  it  from  Madame  Malgares,  and  in  more  detail 
from  one  of  the  officers." 

"  Then  perhaps  you  know  more  than  I  do." 

"Very  probably,"  said  Eunice,  not  without  the 
slightest  shade  of  triumph. 

The  mysterious  Mr.  Lonsdale  was  thrown  off  his 
guard.  Eunice  had  no  wish  to  relieve  him  ;  and  they 
rode  on  in  silence.  With  some  gulping  and  possibly 
a  little  flush,  he  said :  "  I  had  thought  you  might  be 
anxious  about  Mr.  Nolan  or  about  the  Kentucky 
gentlemen.  I  understood  Miss  Inez  to  speak  as  if 
some  of  them  were  your  escort  here." 

How  much  did  he  know,  and  how  little?  Eunice's 
first  thought  was  to  say,  "  The  Kentucky  gentlemen 
will  take  care  of  themselves."  But  this  tone  of  de- 


2i 6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

fiance  might  complicate  things.  Once  more  she  tried 
the  truth. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Mr.  Harrod  and  two  or  three  more  of 
that  party  came  to  Antonio  with  us."  She  longed  to 
say,  "  Why  did  not  your  king  pounce  on  them  then?  " 
but  again  she  was  prudent. 

Mr.  Lonsdale  tried  to  break  her  guard  once  more. 
"  The  Spanish  force  is  quite  a  large  one/'  said  he. 

Eunice  longed  to  say,  "  I  know  that  too."  But  her 
conversation  with  Major  Barelo  had  been  confidential. 
She  said,  "  Indeed !  "  and  the  Englishman  was  dis- 
armed. He  made  no  further  attempt.  They  came 
without  another  word  to  the  colonel's  quarters;  he 
helped  the  proud  Miss  Perry  to  dismount,  and  the 
ladies  sought  their  own  apartments. 

Before  bedtime  the  White  Hawk  brought  her  letter 
to  Eunice.  She  came  into  the  double  room  which 
Eunice  and  her  niece  occupied ;  and  she  bore  on  her 
back  a  parcel  of  skins,  exactly  as  a  squaw  might 
bring  them  into  the  warehouse  for  trade.  She  flung 
them  down  on  the  floor  with  just  the  air  of  a  tired 
Indian,  glad  his  tramp  was  at  an  end.  Then,  with  a 
very  perfect  imitation  of  the  traders'  jargon,  she  said : 

"Buy  skin?  ugh?  good  skin?  ugh?  Five  skin,  six 
skin,  good  skin.  Buy?  ugh?  Whiskey,  sugar,  pow- 
der,—one  whiskey,  two  sugar,  four  powder,  —  six 
skin.  Ugh?" 

And  she  held  up  one  hand  and  the  forefinger  of 
the  other. 

Eunice  and  Inez  laughed  ;  and  Inez  said,  — 

"  Yes,  yes  !  good  skin  —  buy  skin  —  one  skin,  five 
skin.  Heap  sugar,  heap  whiskey,  heap  powder!  " 


or,  Show  your  Passports  217 

So  the  mock  bargain  was  completed.  The  girls 
knelt,  and  untied  the  cords;  and  the  White  Hawk 
affected  to  praise  her  skins,  —  the  color,  the  smooth- 
ness, the  age,  and  so  on.  And  when  she  had  played 
out  her  joke,  and  not  till  then,  she  turned  them  all 
over,  and  showed  the  grotesque  figures  which  she  had 
drawn  on  the  back  of  one  of  them.  Even  to  Eunice's 
eye,  although  she  had  the  clew,  they  showed  nothing. 
Perhaps  she  began  at  the  top  when  she  should  have 
begun  at  the  bottom :  perhaps  she  began  at  the  bot- 
tom when  she  should  have  begun  at  the  middle. 
Ma-ry  enjoyed  her  puzzled  expression,  but  made  no 
sign  till  Eunice  said,  — 

"  I  can  make  nothing  of  it.  You  must  show  me." 
Then  the  White  Hawk  laughed  and  explained. 
From  point  to  point  of  the  skin  her  finger  dashed 
—  who  should  say  by  what  law?  But  here  was  a 
group  made  up  of  an  eagle  and  ten  hands,  ten  feet, 
and  ten  other  hands.  This  meant  a  hundred  eagles 
and  fifty  more,  —  and  eagles  were  "  enemies."  In  a 
distant  corner  was  a  round  shield,  in  another  a  lance 
with  scalps  attached,  in  another  the  feather  of  a  hel- 
met. This  showed  that  she  supposed  the  enemies 
were  lancers ;  that  they  wore  the  Spanish  helmet,  and 
carried  the  Spanish  shields.  Another  character  had 
three  Roman  crosses :  these  were  the  crosses  of  the 
cathedral  at  Chihuahua.  Nolan  had  seen  them,  and 
the  White  Hawk  had  heard  of  them.  Far  and  wide 
had  their  fame  gone  among  those  simple  people ;  for 
that  cathedral  was  as  the  St.  Peter's  of  the  whole  of 
Northern  Mexico.  And  so  the  record  went  on.  The 
White  Hawk  assured  her  friends  that  so  soon  as 


2 1 8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

Nolan  or  Harrod  saw  the  skin  they  would  know 
what,  as  the  ladies  could  very  well  understand,  very 
few  white  men  would  know:  that  a  hundred  and  fifty 
Spanish  lancers  had  left  Chihuahua  in  search  of  him. 
Then  she  showed  where  the  representation  of  six 
bears*  paws  showed  that  on  the  sixth  day  of  the 
moon  of  the  bears  the  expedition  started ;  and  then 
where  a  chestnut-burr,  by  the  side  of  men  fording  a 
river,  showed  that  they  crossed  the  Rio  Grande  after 
the  month  of  chestnuts  had  come  in. 

All  this  Eunice  heard  and  approved  with  wonder. 
She  praised  the  girl  to  her  heart's  content. 

"  Where  did  you  find  your  colors,  my  darling?  " 

And  Ma-ry  confessed,  that,  failing  walnut-husks 
and  oak-galls,  she  had  contented  herself  with  Inez's 
inkstand. 

"  But  this  red  around  the  scalps,  this  red  crest  of 
the  turkey's  head,  these  red  smooches  on  the 
lances?  " 

The  White  Hawk  paused  a  moment,  turned  off  the 
question  as  if  it  were  an  idle  one ;  but,  when  she  was 
pressed,  she  stripped  up  the  sleeve  of  her  dress,  and 
showed  the  fresh  wound  upon  her  arm,  where  she 
had,  without  hesitation,  used  her  own  blood  for 
vermilion. 

Then  Inez  kissed  her  again  and  again.  But  the 
girl  would  not  pretend  that  she  thought  this  either 
pain  or  sacrifice. 

Eunice  thanked  her,  but  told  her  she  must  always 
trust  them  more.  And  then  they  all  corded  up  the 
pack  together ;  and,  under  the  White  Hawk's  hands, 
it  assumed  again  the  aspect  of  the  most  unintelligent 


or,  Show  your  Passports  219 

bale  of  furs  that  ever  passed  from  an  Indian's  hands 
to  a  trader's.  It  was  agreed  that  at  daybreak  Ransom 
and  Ma-ry  should  carry  the  parcel  to  the  Indian 
camp,  and  Ma-ry  should  try  the  force  of  her  rhetoric, 
backed  with  promises  of  heaps  of  sugar,  to  send  a 
party  with  the  message. 

"  It  is  all  very  fine,"  said  Inez ;  "  and  if  that  skin 
ever  reaches  him,  I  suppose  that  he  or  Captain  Harrod 
will  disentangle  its  riddles.  But  I  have  more  faith 
in  ten  words  of  honest  English  than  in  all  this 
galimatias!' 

"  So  have  I,  dear  child,  if  the  honest  English  ever 
comes  to  him.  See  what  I  have  done.  I  have  begged 
from  Dolores  this  pretty  prayer-book.  There  is  no 
treason  there.  I  have  loosened  the  parchment  cover 
here,  and  have  written  on  the  inside  of  it  your  ten 
words,  and  more.  See,  I  said,  — 

" '  The  governor  sent  a  hundred  and  fifty  lancers  after  you 
at  Christmas.  They  were  at  El  Paso  last  week  and  mean 

fight.' 

"  You  see  I  printed  this  in  old  text,  and  matched 
the  color  of  the  old  Latin,  as  well  as  its  character. 
These  people  shall  take  that  to  Captain  Nolan  with 
this  note." 

And  she  read  the  note  she  had  written :  — 

" '  MY  DEAR  COUSIN,  —  May  the  Holy  Mother  keep  you 
in  her  remembrance  !  My  prayer  for  you,  day  and  night,  is 
that  you  may  be  saved.  Forget  the  vanities  and  sins  of 
those  shameless  heretics,  and  enter  into  the  arms  of  our 
mother,  the  Church.  Study  well,  in  each  day's  prayers,  the 


22O  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

holy  book  I  send  you.     On  our  knees  we  daily  beg  that  you 
may  see  the  errors  of  your  wandering  and  return.* 

"  That  will  make  him  search  the  book  through  and 
through ;  and  if  he  does  not  rip  off  this  parchment 
cover,  and  find  what  I  have  written  on  the  inside,  he 
is  not  the  man  I  take  him  to  be. 

"  And  now,  girls,  go  to  bed,  both  of  you :  Ma-ry 
will  need  to  be  moving  bright  and  early,  if  she  is  to 
take  this  to  the  redskins  before  the  fort  is  stirring."  * 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MINES   AND   COUNTER-MINES 

"  Seek  not  thou  to  find 
The  sacred  counsels  of  almighty  mind : 
Involved  in  darkness  lies  the  great  decree, 
Nor  can  the  depths  of  fate  be  pierced  by  thee; 
What  fits  thy  knowledge,  thou  the  first  shalt  know." 

HOMER. 

WITH  the  gray  of  the  morning  the  White  Hawk  left 
the  house,  and  found  her  way  out  of  the  little  settle- 
ment. The  girl's  history  was  perfectly  known  to 
every  one  at  the  post,  and  any  waywardness  in  her 
habits  attracted  no  surprise ;  indeed,  it  attracted  no 
attention.  On  his  part,  Ransom  had  saddled  his  own 
horse,  had  fastened  behind  the  saddle  the  pack  of  furs, 
and  a  package,  only  not  quite  so  large,  of  the  much- 
prized  sugar. 

"  All  nonsense,"  he  had  said  to  Eunice.     "  Gin  um 
two  quarts   whiskey,  and  they'll  go  to  hell  for  you. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  221 

Sugar's  poor  sugar:  your  brother  would  not  look  at 
it,  it 's  so  bad ;  but  it  's  too  good  for  them  redskins. 
Gin  um  whiskey/' 

But  Eunice  was  resolute ;  and  the  old  man  knew 
that  he  must  throw  the  sugar  away,  because  she  so 
bade  him.  He  satisfied  himself,  therefore,  with  taking 
from  the  storehouse  on  her  order  just  twice  as  much 
as  she  had  bidden  him.  He  was  well  clear  of  any 
observation  from  the  Presidio  when  he  saw  Ma-ry  in 
advance  of  him,  moving  so  quickly  that  he  had  to 
abandon  the  walk  of  his  horse,  and  come  to  a  trot, 
that  he  might  overtake  her. 

"  Mornin',  Miss  Mary:  better  jump  up  here.  The 
old  bay  's  often  carried  Miss  Inez." 

And  in  a  moment  he  had  lifted  the  girl,  who  was 
an  expert  in  horsemanship  in  all  its  guises,  so  that 
she  sat  behind  him  on  the  pack  of  furs  steadying  her- 
self by  placing  one  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  Having 
entirely  satisfied  himself,  after  the  first  few  days  of 
his  observation  of  the  White  Hawk,  that  she  was,  in 
very  truth,  neither  a  "  nigger  "  nor  an  "  Ingin,"  he 
had  taken  her  into  the  sacred  chamber  of  his  high 
favor,  and  did  not  regard  her  as  humbug  or  liar, 
which  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  his  regard  for 
most  men  and  women. 

"  Want  ye  to  tell  them  redskins  to  keep  away  from 
them  priests  and  friars,  Miss  Mary.  Priests  and  friars 
ain't  no  good  nowhere.  These  here  is  wuss  than  most 
on  um  be.  Tell  the  redskins  to  keep  clear  on  um." 

The  White  Hawk  thought  she  understood  him,  and 
said  so. 

"  Tell  um  to  make  haste,  lazy  critters,  if  they  can. 


222  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Wanted  to  go  myself  to  tell  Mr.  Nolan.  Can't  go, 
cos  must  stay  with  the  young  ladies.  But  I  could 
get  there  and  back  'fore  them  lazy  redskins  will  go 
half  way.  Tell  um  to  be  here  in  a  week,  and  we  '11 
give  um  five  pounds  of  good  sugar,  every  man  on  um." 

Ma-ry  understood  enough  to  know  that  this  proposal 
was  absurd.  She  told  Ransom,  in  language  which  he 
did  not  understand,  that  if  the  messengers  reached 
Nolan  in  less  than  eight  or  ten  days  it  would  be  by 
marvellous  good  luck.  As  she  did  not  use  his  words, 
spoke  of  suns  and  nights,  and  of  hands  whenever  she 
would  say  "  five,"  the  old  man  did  not  at  all  follow 
her ;  but  he  was  relieved  by  thinking  that  she  under- 
stood him,  and  said  so. 

"  That 's  so :  let  um  travel  all  day  and  all  night 
too.  I  'd  get  there  myself  by  day  arter  to-morrow ; 
but  them  redskins  don't  know  nothinY' 

The  truth  was,  that  he  was  as  ignorant  as  a  mole  of 
Nolan's  position  and  of  the  way  thither.  But  he  had 
always  relied,  and  not  in  vain,  on  his  own  quick  good 
sense,  his  iron  strength,  and  his  intense  determination 
to  achieve  any  task  he  had  in  hand  more  promptly 
than  those  around  him.  He  did  not,  therefore,  even 
know  that  he  was  bragging.  He  meant  merely  to 
say  that  the  Indians  were  as  nearly  worthless  as 
human  beings  could  be;  that  their  ability  was  less 
than  his  in  the  proportion  of  one-fifth  to  one ;  and, 
by  the  extravagance  of  his  language,  to  wash  his 
hands,  even  in  the  White  Hawk's  eyes,  of  any  partici- 
pation in  the  responsibility  of  this  undertaking. 

They  were  soon  in  sight  of  the  smoke  of  the 
lodges;  and  in  a  moment  more  were  surrounded 


or,  Show  your  Passports  223 

by  the  beggar  children  of  a  beggar  tribe,  eager  for 
paper  gods,  for  whiskey,  for  sugar,  for  ribbons,  for 
tobacco,  or  for  anything  else  that  might  be  passing. 

Ma-ry  sought  out  and  found  the  man  who  could 
best  be  called  the  chief  of  the  party.  Ransom  had 
dismounted ;  but  she  sat  upon  the  saddle  still,  and 
took  an  air  which  was  wholly  imperial  in  her  deal- 
ings with  the  Crooked  Feather.  Ransom  said  after- 
ward to  Inez,  "  The  gal 's  a  queen  in  her  own  country, 
she  is."  Ma-ry  did  not  ask:  she  directed. 

The  man  was  amazed  that  she  spoke  to  him  in  his 
own  language.  No  white  man  or  woman  of  the 
Presidio  had  ever  accosted  him  so  till  now.  He  had 
seen  her  only  the  day  before  with  a  party  from  the 
fort ;  and  he  knew  very  well  that  they  represented 
the  dignitaries  of  the  fort.  He  did  not  know  who 
she  was,  nor  did  the  girl  make  any  endeavor  to 
explain. 

Simply  she  bade  him,  in  the  most  peremptory 
way,  take  the  skins  and  the  little  parcel  which  she 
gave  him  to  the  hunting-party  whom  he  would  find 
on  the  Tockanhono,  and  to  be  sure  he  was  there 
before  the  moon  changed.  When  he  had  done  this 
he  was  to  come  back,  also  as  soon  as  might  be ;  and 
when  he  returned,  if  he  brought  any  token  from  the 
long-knife  chief  whom  he  found  there,  he  was  to 
have  sugar  in  heaps  which  almost  defy  the  powers 
of  our  numeration.  All  the  party  were  to  have 
heaps  of  it.  In  guerdon,  or  token,  Ransom  was  now 
permitted  to  open  the  little  pack  of  sugar  which  he 
had  brought  with  him,  which  then  lay  in  tempting 
profusion  in  its  open  wrapper  while  Ma-ry  spoke. 


224  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

She  was  a  little  annoyed  to  see  that  her  order  — 
for  it  was  hers  originally  —  had  been  so  largely 
exceeded. 

As  for  the  size  of  the  party,  the  Crooked  Feather 
might  go  alone,  or  he  might  take  all  the  lodges,  as 
he  chose :  only  he  must  not  tarry.  For  all  who 
went,  and  all  who  returned,  there  would  be  sugar  if 
they  were  here  before  the  third  quarter  of  the  new 
moon.  If  as  late  as  the  next  moon,  there  would  be 
no  sugar;  and  the  White  Hawk's  expression  of  dis- 
gust at  a  result  so  wretched  was  tragical.  The  so- 
called  stoics  to  whom  she  spoke  affected  feelings  of 
dismay  equal  to  hers. 

Crooked  Feather  ventured  to  suggest  that  a  little 
whiskey  made  travel  quicker. 

The  imperial  lady  rebuked  him  sternly  for  the  pro- 
posal, and  he  shrunk  back  ashamed. 

In  a  rapid  council  he  then  decided  that  only  five 
horses  with  their  riders  should  go,  and  this  under 
his  own  lead.  As  for  the  sugar  which  Ransom  had 
brought  and  laid  before  them,  it  was  nothing :  even 
a  rabbit  would  not  see  that  any  sugar  lay  there.  In 
token  of  which,  as  they  talked,  the  Crooked  Feather 
and  his  companions  scooped  it  up  in  their  hands, 
and  ate  it  all ;  it  would  not  have  vanished  sooner  had 
it  been  some  light  soup  provided  for  their  refresh- 
ment. But  he  understood  that  his  supposed  "  White 
Father "  who  had  provided  this  had  sent  it  only  as 
a  little  token  of  good-will,  —  clearly  could  not,  in- 
deed, send  more,  besides  the  furs  and  the  princess, 
on  the  back  of  Ransom's  saddle.  A  chief  of  the 
rank  and  following  of  Crooked  Feather  was  sub- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  225 

stantially,  he  said,  the  equal  of  his  Great  Father 
personally  unknown  to  him.  But  he  wore  and 
showed  a  crucifix,  which  his  Great  Father  had  sent 
to  him;  and  as  the  Great  Father  had  set  his  heart 
on  sending  these  skins  to  the  long-knife  chieftain, 
who  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Crooked  Feather's, 
according  to  that  worthy's  own  account,  why, 
Crooked  Feather  would  personally  undertake  their 
safe  conduct. 

Even  while  this  harangue  went  on,  the  squaws 
detailed  for  that  duty  were  packing  the  beasts  who 
were  to  go  on  the  expedition,  hastily  folding  the 
skins  of  the  lodge  which  was  to  go. 

Ma-ry  was  a  little  surprised  to  find  that  she  was 
mistaken  for  an  emissary  of  King  Charles  the  Fourth 
or  of  the  Pope  of  Rome.  In  truth,  she  could  not 
herself  have  named  these  dignitaries,  nor  had  she  the 
least  idea  of  their  pretensions.  It  was  idle  to  try  to 
explain  that  her  Great  Father  was  a  very  different 
person  from  the  Great  Father  who  had  started  the 
crucifix.  She  simply  applauded  the  purpose  of  the 
Crooked  Feather  to  do  what  she  had  told  him  to  do; 
and  she  did  not  hesitate  to  give  precise  instructions 
to  the  women  who  were  packing  the  horses,  in  the 
same  queenly  manner  with  which  she  had  spoken 
before. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  party  was  on  its  way, 
having  long  before  consumed  to  the  last  crumb  all 
the  sugar.  Ransom  and  Ma-ry  returned  home. 
They  parted  at  the  spot  where  they  had  met.  Ma-ry 
entered  the  Presidio  on  one  side,  and  Ransom  on  the 
other,  and  it  was  clear  that  the  absence  of  neither  of 

'5 


226  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

them  had  challenged  any  remark  in  the  laziness  of  a 
Spanish  town.  Ma-ry  told  her  story  with  glee  to  the 
ladies.  Inez  fondled  and  Eunice  praised  her,  only 
trying  to  warn  her  of  the  essential  difference  between 
such  a  great  father  as  Silas  Perry  and  such  another 
as  Pope  Pius;  of  which,  however,  to  repeat  again 
MacDonald's  remark  to  the  Japanese  governors, 
"  She  could  make  nothing." 

The  same  evening  the  Crooked  Feather,  who  had 
been  true  to  his  promise  of  speed,  had  advanced  as 
far  as  Gaudaloupe  River.  He  found  there  a  camp- 
fire,  a  little  tent,  and  three  horses  tethered.  It  proved 
that  the  party  there  consisted  of  three  fathers  of  the 
Franciscan  order,  who  had  left  the  Alamo  for  an 
outpost  mission. 

The  fathers  were  patronizing  and  courteous.  They 
asked  the  purpose  of  Crooked  Feather,  and  he  told 
them.  They  then  produced  some  grape  brandy, 
such  as  the  missions  were  permitted  to  make  for 
their  own  use,  in  contravention  of  the  royal  policy 
which  weighed  upon  persons  not  ghostly.  Crooked 
Feather  took  his  portion  large,  and  allotted  lesser 
quotas  to  his  companions. 

With  the  second  draught  he  went  into  more  minute 
particulars  as  to  his  enterprise,  and  those  who  sent 
him.  But  the  fathers  seemed  to  take  no  interest  in 
his  narrative. 

As  soon  as  the  liquor  had  done  its  perfect  work, 
and  all  the  Indians  slept  in  a  drunken  sleep,  Father 
Jeronimo  cut  open  the  bale  of  furs,  and  shook  them 
to  see  what  might  be  hidden.  When  nothing  came 
out,  he  examined  the  skins,  and  at  once  found 


or,  Show  your  Passports  227 

Ma-ry's  runes.  Of  these  "  he  could  make  nothing." 
But  he  said,  with  a  smile,  to  the  worthy  Brother 
Diego  who  assisted  him,  that  it  was  a  pity  to  lead 
others  into  temptation;  and  he  took  out  that  skin 
from  the  parcel  to  place  it  under  his  own  blanket. 

As  the  Crooked  Feather  slept  heavily,  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  relieving  him  also  of  the  smaller 
parcel  which  Ma-ry  had  given  to  him.  Father  Diego 
crossed  himself,  and  so  did  the  other,  on  opening  it. 
They  found  the  familiar  aspect  of  a  little  book  of 
devotion.  None  the  less  did  the  older  priest  cut 
open  the  stitches  which  held  on  the  parchment  over- 
cover.  When  he  noticed,  among  the  words  which 
covered  the  inside,  some  which  he  knew  were  neither 
Spanish  nor  Latin,  he  folded  the  parchment  care- 
fully, and  put  it  in  his  bosom.  He  enclosed  in  it,  as 
he  did  so,  Eunice's  friendly  note,  of  which  he  could 
read  no  word.  He  then  tied  up  the  book  in  its 
wrapper  precisely  as  it  had  been  folded  before. 

With  his  " tokens"  thus  improved  upon,  and  with 
the  worst  headache  he  had  ever  known  in  his  life, 
the  Crooked  Feather  started  the  next  morning,  at  a 
later  hour  than  he  had  intended,  on  his  mission. 

At  an  earlier  hour  the  three  Fathers  had  started 
on  theirs. 


228  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

WILL  HARROD'S  FORTUNES 

"  The  fragrant  birch  above  him  hung 

Its  tassels  in  the  sky  ; 
And  many  a  vernal  blossom  sprung 
And  nodded  careless  by. 

"  But  there  was  weeping  far  away ; 

And  gentle  eyes,  for  him, 
With  watching  many  an  anxious  day, 
Were  sorrowful  and  dim." 

BRYANT. 

IT  is  time  to  go  back  to  the  fortunes  of  poor  Will 
Harrod,  who  had  fared,  as  the  winter  passed,  much 
less  satisfactorily  than  any  of  the  rest  of  our  little 
party. 

With  no  other  adventure  which  we  have  thought 
need  detain  the  eager  or  the  sluggish  reader,  Harrod 
had  held  on  his  pleasant  journey  with  the  ladies 
till  they  were  fairly  within  sight  of  the  crosses  of 
the  church,  as  they  approached  San  Antonio.  Then 
he  bade  them  farewell,  with  more  regret  than  the 
poor  fellow  dared  express  in  v/ords,  —  not  with 
more  than  Eunice  expected,  or  than  Inez  knew. 

He  said,  very  frankly,  that  his  duty  to  his  com- 
mander was  to  join  him  as  soon  as  might  be,  with 
three  companions,  who  were  so  much  force  taken 
from  the  strength  of  the  hunting-party.  He  said 
that,  if  he  took  these  men  with  him  into  the  Pre- 
sidio, there  was  the  possibility  that  they  might  all 
be  detained,  whatever  the  courtesy  of  Major  Barelo, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  229 

and  in  face  of  the  permission  which  De  Nava  had 
given  to  Nolan.  And  therefore,  he  said,  though  each 
day  that  he  was  with  them  was  indescribably  de- 
lightful to  him,  —  nay,  happier  than  any  days  had 
ever  been  before,  —  he  should  tear  himself  away 
now,  hoping  that  it  might  not  be  very  long  before 
at  Antonio,  or  perhaps  at  Orleans,  they  might  all 
meet  again. 

And  the  loyal  fellow  would  permit  himself  to 
say  no  more.  Not  though  he  had  given  every 
drop  of  his  heart's  blood  to  Inez,  —  though  he 
was  willing  enough  that  she  should  guess  that  he 
had  given  it  to  her, — yet  he  would  not  in  words 
say  so  to  her,  nor  ask  the  question  to  which  the 
answer  seemed  to  him  to  be  life  or  death.  The 
young  reader  of  to-day  must  judge  whether  this 
loyalty  or  chivalry  of  his  was  Quixotic.  Poor 
Harrod  had  time  enough  to  consider  it  afterward, 
and  to  ask  himself,  in  every  varying  tone  of  feel- 
ing and  temper,  whether  he  were  right  or  wrong. 
At  every  night's  encampment  on  this  journey 
he  had  gone  backward  and  forward  on  the  "  ifs" 
and  "  buts "  of  the  same  inquiry.  He  had  deter- 
mined, wisely  or  not  wisely,  that  he  would  not 
in  words  ask  Inez  if  she  would  take  that  heart 
which  was  all  her  own.  First,  because  he  had  no 
home  to  offer  her.  He  was  an  adventurer,  and 
only  an  adventurer;  and  just  now  the  special  ad- 
venture in  which  he  was  enlisted  promised  very 
little  to  any  engaged  in  it.  Second,  he  had  known 
Inez  only  because  she  had  been  intrusted  to  his 
care;  and  she  was  intrusted  to  his  care,  not  by 


230  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

her  father,  but  by  Philip  Nolan,  whom  he  almost 
adored,  who  was  the  person  to  whose  care  her 
father  had  intrusted  her.  Perhaps  her  father  would 
not  have  intrusted  her  to  him.  Who  knew?  Very 
certainly  Mr.  Perry  would  not  have  intrusted  her 
to  him,  Master  William  Harrod  thought,  had  he 
supposed  that,  before  a  month  was  over,  he  was 
going  to  play  the  Moor  to  this  lovely  Desdemona, 
and  steal  her  from  her  father's  home. 

So  William  Harrod  spoke  no  word  of  love  to 
Inez.  To  Eunice  Perry  he  had  committed  himself 
through  and  through.  To  Inez  he  said  nothing  — 
in  words.  If  every  watchful  attention  meant  any- 
thing in  the  girl's  eyes;  if  the  most  delicate  re- 
membrance of  her  least  wish,  if  provision  for  every 
whim,  if  care  of  her  first  in  every  moment  of  in- 
convenience or  trial,  —  if  these  meant  anything, 
why,  all  that  they  meant  he  meant;  but  he  said 
nothing. 

It  is  not  fair  to  say  or  to  guess  whether  Inez 
understood  all  this,  how  far  she  understood  it,  or, 
which  is  a  question  more  subtle,  whether  she  ever 
asked  herself  if  she  understood  it.  Inez  laid  down 
to  herself  this  rule,  —  not  an  inconvenient  one,  — 
that  she  would  treat  him  exactly  as  she  treated 
Philip  Nolan.  Philip  Nolan  did  not  want  to  marry 
her,  she  did  not  want  to  marry  him ;  yet  they  were 
the  best  of  friends.  She  could  joke  with  him,  she 
could  talk  rhodomontade  with  him,  she  could  be 
serious  with  him.  They  had  prayed  together,  kneel- 
ing before  the  same  altar;  they  had  danced  together 
at  the  same  ball;  they  had  talked  together  by 


or,  Show  your  Passports  231 

the  hour,  riding  under  these  solemn  moss-grown 
trees.  She  would  be  as  much  at  ease  with  Philip 
Nolan's  friend  as  she  was  with  Philip  Nolan.  That 
ease  he  had  no  right  to  mistake,  nor  had  any  one  a 
right  to  criticise. 

There  was  but  one  thing  which  gave  the  girl 
cause  to  ponder  on  her  relations  to  this  young 
man :  it  would  be  hardly  right  to  say  that  it  gave 
her  uneasiness.  But  here  was  her  aunt  Eunice, 
who  had  never  before  had  any  secret  from  her, 
and  from  whom  she  had  never  had  any  secret. 
There  was  not  a  theme  so  lofty,  there  was  not  a 
folly  so  petty  but  that  she  and  Aunt  Eunice 
had  talked  it  over,  up  and  down,  back  and  forth, 
right  and  left.  Why  did  Aunt  Eunice  never  say 
one  word  to  her  about  William  Harrod?  She  never 
guarded  her,  never  snubbed  her,  never  praised  him, 
never  blamed  him.  If  Harrod  and  Inez  rode  together 
all  through  an  afternoon,  talking  of  books,  of  poets, 
of  religion,  or  of  partners,  of  ribbons,  or  of  flowers,  or 
of  clouds,  or  of  sunset,  when  they  came  in  at  night, 
Aunt  Eunice  had  no  word  of  caution,  none  of  curiosity. 
This  was  not  in  the  least  natural;  but  it  was  a  re- 
serve which  Inez  did  not  quite  venture  to  break 
in  upon. 

Be  it  observed  at  the  same  moment,  that  Inez  was 
not  one  of  the  people  who  have  been  spoken  of,  who 
believed  that  there  was  a  tenderness  between  Philip 
Nolan  and  her  aunt.  Inez  knew  the  absurdity  of 
that  theory.  On  the  other  hand,  Inez  had  never 
forgotten  twenty  words  of  confidence  which  Philip 
Nolan  gave  her  two  years  before  the  time  of  which 


232  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

we  speak,  when  she  was  beginning  to  feel  that  dolls 
were  not  all  in  all,  when  she  was  growing  tall,  and 
was  very  proud  of  such  confidence.  Philip  Nolan 
had  shown  Inez  a  picture  then,  —  a  very  lovely  pic- 
ture of  a  lady  with  a  very  charming  face ;  and  this 
picture  was  not  a  picture  of  her  aunt  Eunice.  Inez 
believed  in  men,  and  as  she  knew  Phil  Nolan's  secret, 
she  had  never  been  misled  by  the  theory  that  there 
was  any  tender  understanding  between  him  and  her 
aunt. 

Was  there,  then,  any  mysterious  understanding 
between  William  Harrod  and  her  aunt?  No!  Inez 
did  not  believe  that,  either.  True,  it  would  happen 
that  there  would  be  rides  as  long  when  he  and  her 
aunt  were  together,  and  when  Ma-ry  and  Inez  were 
together,  as  there  were  when  he  and  she  talked  of 
anything  in  heaven  above,  and  earth  beneath,  and 
the  waters  under  the  earth.  And  when  Aunt  Eunice 
and  Captain  Harrod  had  been  thus  talking  together 
all  the  afternoon  or  all  the  morning,  when  they 
came  into  camp,  while  the  men  were  tethering  the 
horses,  and  the  women,  in  the  relief  of  moccasins, 
were  lying  alone  before  the  fire,  even  then  never 
did  Aunt  Eunice  say  one  word  beyond  the  merest 
outside-talk  of  ford  or  mud,  or  sun  or  rain,  which 
made  any  allusion  to  William  Harrod. 

There  was  one  person,  however,  who  made  not  the 
slightest  question  as  to  the  relation  between  these 
parties.  The  White  Hawk  knew,  without  being 
told?  that  Harrod  loved  Inez  as  his  very  life.  When 
the  two  girls  were  alone,  she  never  hesitated  to  tell 
Inez  so;  and  she  never  hesitated  to  add  that  it 


or,  Show  your  Passports  233 

would  be  strange  indeed,  seeing  what  manner  of 
girl  her  own  Inez  was,  if  he  did  not  love  her  as 
his  very  life.  Nay,  there  were  times  when,  with 
such  language  as  the  girls  had,  this  waif  from  the 
forest  would  venture  the  question  to  which  she 
never  got  any  answer,  —  whether  Inez  did  not 
have  the  least  little  bit  of  thought  of  him,  though 
his  back  were  turned  and  he  far  away. 

The  reader  now  knows  more  than  William  Harrod 
knew  of  the  state  of  his  own  affairs,  on  the  afternoon 
when  he  made  his  last  good-byes  to  the  two  ladies, 
and,  with  King  and  Richards  and  Adams,  turned 
back  to  join  the  captain  on  the  expedition  from 
which  they  had  been  now  for  more  than  a  fortnight 
parted.  Of  these  men,  Harrod  had  learned  early  to 
distrust  Richards.  He  seemed  to  him  to  be  himself 
distrustful,  morose,  and  sulky  without  cause;  and 
Harrod  did  not  believe  him  to  be  a  true  man.  Of 
the  others  he  had  formed  no  judgment,  for  better  or 
worse,  except  that  they  were  like  the  average  of 
Western  adventurers,  glad  to  spend  a  winter  on 
ground  which  they  had  never  seen  before.  He  had 
been  a  little  surprised  that  all  of  them  had  assented, 
without  question  or  murmur,  to  so  long  a  separation 
from  the  main  party  of  hunters. 

He  was  more  surprised  that,  now  this  separation 
was  so  near  an  end,  none  of  the  men  showed  any 
interest  in  the  prospect  of  reunion.  They  rode  on, 
for  the  four  days'  forced  march  which  brought  them 
back  to  that  famous  camp  where  Inez  had  lost  her- 
self,—  a  party  ill  at  ease.  Whenever  Harrod  tried 
to  lead  the  conversation  to  the  business  of  the  winter, 


234  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

it  flagged.  The  men  dropped  that  subject  as  if  it 
were  a  hot  coal.  For  himself,  poor  Harrod  gladly 
turned  back  in  his  own  thoughts  to  every  word  that 
had  been  spoken,  to  every  look  that  had  been  looked, 
as  he  and  she  rode  over  this  road  before.  If  the  men 
did  not  want  to  talk  about  mustangs  and  corrals,  he 
certainly  did  not.  And  so,  as  they  brought  down 
five  days  of  ordinary  travel  so  as  to  compass 
them  in  little  more  than  three,  it  was  but  a  silent 
journey. 

Of  such  silence,  the  mystery  appeared,  when  they 
had  discussed  the  jerked  venison  of  their  noonday 
meal  at  camp  at  the  same  point  as  that  where  Eunice 
watched  and  wept. 

To  go  to  Nolan's  rendezvous  from  this  point, 
they  would  have  to  follow  up  the  valley  of  the 
Brasses  River,  known  to  the  Indians  as  the  Tockan- 
hono.  The  trail  would  not  be  as  easy  as  the  old 
San  Antonio  road  which  they  had  been  following, 
nor  could  they  expect  to  make  as  rapid  progress 
upon  it.  But,  at  the  outside,  Nolan  was  not  two 
hundred  miles  above  them,  perhaps  not  one  hundred 
miles.  With  the  horses  they  had  under  them,  this 
distance  would  be  soon  achieved. 

As  the  men  washed  down  the  venison  with  the  last 
drop  of  the  day's  ration  of  whiskey,  Harrod  gave  his 
commands  for  the  evening,  in  that  interrogative  or 
suggestive  form  in  which  a  wise  officer  commands 
free  and  independent  hunters. 

"Had  we  not  better  hold  on  here  till  daybreak?" 
he  said.  "  That  will  give  the  horses  a  better  chance 
at  this  feed.  We  will  start  as  soon  as  we  can  see  our 


or,  Show  your  Passports  235 

hands  in  the  morning;  and  by  night  we  shall  have 
made  as  much  as  if  we  had  started  now." 

None  of  the  men  said  a  word  —  a  little  to  Harrod's 
surprise,  though  he  was  used  to  their  sulkiness. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  if  you  want  to  play  cards,  you 
must  play  by  yourselves  this  evening.  I  shall  take  a 
nap  now,  and  then  I  have  my  journal  to  write  up ; 
and  Mr.  Nolan  wants  me  to  take  the  latitude  here  as 
soon  as  the  stars  are  up.  So  good  luck  to  you 
all." 

Upon  this,  King  —  who  was  perhaps  the  most  easy 
speaker  of  the  party — screwed  himself  up,  or  was 
put  up  by  the  others,  to  say,  — 

"Cap'n,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  we's  going 
home.  There  won't  be  no  horses  cotched  up  yonder 
this  year.  Them  blasted  Greasers  is  too  many  for 
Cap'n  Nolan  or  for  you ;  and  we  sha'n't  get  into 
that  trap.  We  uns  is  going  home ;  'n',  if  you  's  wise, 
you  goes  too." 

Harrod  stared  at  first,  without  speaking.  This  was 
the  mystery  of  all  this  sulky  silence,  was  it?  And 
this  Mordecai  Richards  was  at  the  bottom  of  it ! 
Harrod  was  too  angry  to  speak  for  a  moment.  Be- 
fore he  did  speak,  he  had  mastered  that  first  wish  to 
give  the  man  a  black  eye,  or  to  choke  him  for  a  few 
minutes,  as  fit  recompense  for  such  treachery.  He 
did  master  it,  and  succeeded  in  pretending  this  was  a 
half-joke,  and  in  trying  persuasion. 

They  battled  it  for  half  an  hour.  Harrod  coaxed, 
he  shamed,  he  threatened;  and,  at  the  end,  he  saw 
the  traitors  saddle  and  pack  their  horses,  and  they 
rode  off  without  a  word  of  good-by,  leaving  Harrod 


236  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

alone,  as  he  had  left  Eunice  Perry  on  that  spot,  only 
that  Harrod  had  no  loyal  Ransom. 

"  There  is  no  use  crying  for  spilled  milk,"  he  said, 
as  if  it  were  a  comfort  to  him  to  speak  one  clean  and 
strong  word  after  paddling  in  the  ditch  of  those 
men's  lies  and  cowardice.  "  Half  an  hour  of  a  good 
siesta  lost  in  coaxing  cowards  and  convicting  liars !  " 

And  on  this  the  good  fellow  threw  himself  on  the 
ground  again,  drew  a  buffalo-robe  over  his  feet  and 
knees,  adjusted  his  head  to  his  mind  on  a  perch 
which  he  took  from  his  saddle,  and  in  ten  seconds 
was  asleep;  so  resolute  was  his  own  self-command, 
and  so  meekly  did  wayward  thought,  even  when  most 
rampant,  obey  him  when  he  gave  the  order.  He 
slept  his  appointed  hour.  He  woke,  and  indulged 
himself  in  pleasant  memories.  He  went  down  to  the 
bayou.  The  moccasin-tracks  of  Inez's  little  foot 
were  not  yet  all  erased.  He  crept  out  upon  the  log  of 
cottonwood ;  he  peeped  through  the  opening  in  the 
underbrush.  He  came  back  to  the  false  trail  which 
she  had  followed.  He  worked  along  in  the  effort  to 
reproduce  her  wanderings.  As  night  closed  in,  he 
tried  to  fancy  that  he  was  where  the  girl  was ;  and 
he  paced  up  and  down  fifty  times,  as  he  indulged 
himself  in  the  memory  of  her  courage.  Then  he 
came  up  to  his  post,  took  the  altitude  of  the  North 
Star  and  of  Algol  and  Deneb,  as  the  captain  had  bid- 
den him.  By  the  light  of  his  camp-fire  he  made  an 
entry  in  his  journal  longer  than  usual.  Let  it  be  not 
written  here  whether  there  were  there,  or  were  not, 
a  few  halting  verses,  between  the  altitude  of  Mizar 
and  that  of  Deneb. 


or.  Show  your  Passports  237 

Before  ten  o'clock  the  fire  was  burning  low,  and 
the  fearless  commander  was  dreaming  of  Inez  and  of 
home. 

But  it  is  not  every  night  that  passes  so  smoothly 
for  him ;  and  it  is  not  ev*ery  evening  that  he  can  write 
verses  or  enter  altitudes  so  serenely. 

The  next  day,  with  no  guide,  —  and,  indeed,  need- 
ing none  but  the  indications  of  an  Indian  trail,  —  the 
brave  fellow  worked  his  way  prosperously  toward  his 
chief;  and  at  night,  after  he  had  taken  his  altitudes 
and  written  up  his  journal,  he  lay  by  his  camp-fire 
again,  with  the  well-pleased  hope  that  two  or  three 
more  such  days  might  bring  him  to  the  captain.  At 
the  outside,  five  would  be  enough,  unless  all  plans 
were  changed.  On  such  thoughts  he  slept. 

He  woke  to  find  his  hands  tightly  held,  — to  hear 
the  grunts  and  commands  of  two  stout  Comanches 
who  held  him, — to  struggle  to  his  feet  between  them, 
with  daylight  enough  to  see  that  he  was  in  the  power 
of  a  dozen  of  them.  His  packs  were  already  open, 
and  were  surrounded  by  the  hungry  and  thirsty  cor- 
morants. One  was  draining  his  whiskey-flask.  Two 
or  three  were  trying  experiments  with  his  sextant. 
The  chief  of  the  party  had  already  appropriated 
his  rifle ;  and  as  Harrod  turned  to  look  for  the  pre- 
cious pack,  on  which  his  head  had  rested,  he  saw 
that  that  also  was  in  the  hands  of  the  savages,  and 
that  one  of  them  was  already  fighting  with  another 
on  the  questions  which  should  be  possessor  of  a 
cigar-case,  and  which  should  be  satisfied  with  the 
diary. 

This    misfortune   of   the   young   Kentuckian   will 


238  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

explain  to  the  reader  what  was  a  mystery  to  Philip 
Nolan  when  he  wrote  the  letter  which  we  have 
read,  —  why  Harrod  and  the  rest  had  not  rejoined 
him  within  a  fortnight,  more  or  less,  after  he  had 
received  their  letters  by  Blackburn. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  WARNING 

"  Before  the  clerk  must  bend 

Full  many  a  warrior  grim, 
And  to  the  corner  wend, 

Although  it  please  not  him." 

HEINRICH  KNAUST. 

PHILIP  NOLAN'S  letter  to  Eunice  had  not  reached 
her  on  that  morning  in  March  when  Ma-ry  had  sent 
away  the  joint  letter  to  him,  of  whose  fate  the  reader 
has  been  apprised.  He  had  no  prizes  to  offer  to  the 
Carankawa  squaw  to  whom  he  intrusted  it;  and  her 
occasions  of  travel  were  so  varied,  and  her  encamp- 
ments were  so  long,  that  it  was  many  months  before 
Eunice  Perry  received  it. 

She  was  one  of  the  Indios  reducidos,  —  that  is,  the 
Indians  who  could  make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  —  and 
not  one  of  the  Indios  bravos,  who  were  redskins  with- 
out that  accomplishment.  But  her  "  reduction  "  had 
not  yet  brought  her  to  that  more  difficult  stage  of  re- 
ligion in  which  people  tell  the  truth,  or  do  what  they 
promise  to  do. 

Meanwhile  the  winter  wore  away,  —  not  unpleas- 
antly to  the  young  leader  and  his  party.  He  had 


or,  Show  your  Passports  239 

characterized  them  fitly  enough  in  that  letter.  They 
could  fight  over  their  cards  as  hotly  as  they  would 
have  fought  for  a  king's  crown ;  and  the  next  day,  in 
the  wild  adventures  of  the  chase,  the  man  who  had, 
the  last  night,  sworn  deadly  vengeance  because  a  two 
of  clubs  was  not  an  ace,  would  risk  his  life  freely  to 
save  the  man  whom  he  had  then  threatened.  The 
moon  of  cold  meat,  as  the  Indians  call  the  tenth 
month  from  March,  crept  by;  and  through  the 
month  the  young  hunters  had  no  lack  of  hot  sup- 
plies every  night.  The  moon  of  chestnuts  followed ; 
and  they  were  not  reduced  to  roasted  chestnuts. 
The  moon  of  walnuts  followed ;  and  they  had  wal- 
nuts enough,  but  they  had  much  more.  They 
hunted  well,  they  slept  well,  they  woke  with  the 
sun.  They  hardly  tired  of  this  life  of  adventure; 
but  they  were  all  in  readiness,  so  soon  as  the 
spring  flood  should  a  little  subside,  to  take  up 
their  line  of  march  with  their  frisky  wealth  to  Natchi- 
toches  and  Orleans. 

All  fears  of  the  Spanish  outposts  had  long  since 
died  away.  The  only  question  which  ever  amazed 
the  camp  was  the  question  which  the  last  chapter 
solved  for  the  reader,  —  what  had  become  of  Harrod 
and  of  his  companions?  There  was  not  a  man  of 
them  who  really  liked  Richards;  but  they  knew 
nothing  to  make  them  distrust  King  and  Adams  ;  and 
of  course  every  man  knew  that  William  Harrod  was 
another  Philip  Nolan. 

Things  were  in  this  pass,  when,  as  they  returned 
from  the  day's  hunting  to  the  corral  one  afternoon, 
they  found  sitting  by  the  cooks,  the  home-guard, 


240  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

and  the  camp-fire,  the  five  Indians  of  whom  Crooked 
Feather  was  the  spokesman,  whom  the  reader  saw 
last  when  they  left  the  Guadaloupe  River  five  days 
before,  with  such  benediction  as  the  Franciscan 
fathers  had  given  them. 

Crooked  Feather  rose  at  once,  laid  aside  his  pipe, 
and  presented  to  Nolan  a  little  silver-mounted  hunt- 
ing-whip, with  an  address  which  Nolan  scarcely  un- 
derstood. The  man  spoke  rapidly,  and  with  much 
excitement. 

Nolan  controlled  him  a  little,  by  praising  him  and 
the  whip,  and  giving  his  hand  freely  to  every  mem- 
ber of  the  red  party,  and  then  persuaded  Crooked 
Feather  to  begin  again.  He  asked  him  to  speak 
slowly,  explaining  that,  while  his  heart  was  right 
to  the  Twowokanies,  his  ears  were  somewhat  deaf 
when  he  heard  their  language. 

Crooked  Feather  began  again,  and  this  time  with 
gesture  enough  to  make  clear  his  words.  Nolan 
immediately  called  Blackburn ;  and  by  an  easy 
movement  he  led  the  Indian  away  from  the  other 
men,  who  were  already  hobnobbing  with  the  red- 
skins of  lesser  rank  or  lesser  volubility. 

"  Blackburn,  see  and  hear  what  he  says.  He  gives 
me  this  riding-switch  from  old  Ransom.  Ransom  is 
no  fool,  as  you  know,  Blackburn  ;  and  this  means 
simply  that  he  thinks  we  should  be  going,  and 
going  quickly.  The  man  left  Antonio  only  on 
Tuesday;  he  saw  the  ladies  Monday;  and  early 
Tuesday  morning  Ransom  came  with  that  girl  they 
call  the  White  Hawk,  bade  him  bring  me  this  whip, 
and  promised  him  no  end  of  plunder  if  he  returned 


or,  Show  your  Passports  241 

in  twelve  days.  Now,  they  had  some  reason  for 
sending  the  redskins." 

"They  have  sent  something  besides  the  whip," 
said  Blackburn ;  and  he  turned  to  the  impassive 
Crooked  Feather,  and  with  equal  impassivity  said 
to  him,  "  Give  me  what  else  the  young  squaw  sent 
to  you." 

Then  for  the  first  time,  and  as  if  he  had  forgotten 
it,  or  as  if  it  were  a  trifle  among  braves,  the  Crooked 
Feather  crossed  to  his  packs,  loosened  and  brought 
to  the  others  the  parcel  of  skins,  dusty  and  defaced 
by  the  journey. 

"  Crooked  Feather  brought  these  skins  also. 
There  are  six  skins,  which  the  white  squaw,  whom 
the  white-head  father  took  from  the  Apaches,  sends 
to  the  chief  of  the  long-knives." 

"  You  lie !  "  said  Blackburn,  as  impassive  as  be- 
fore, and  with  as  little  sign  of  displeasure.  "There 
are  but  five  skins.  The  Crooked  Feather  has  stolen 
one." 

"  There  are  six  skins,"  said  the  savage,  holding  up 
one  hand,  and  one  finger  of  the  other;  and  he  ex- 
plained that  he  had  himself  opened  the  parcel, 
counted  the  skins,  and  folded  them  again.  He 
showed  his  own  memorandum,  —  an  open  hand  in 
red,  and  a  red  finger,  —  on  the  other  side  of  the 
outer  skin. 

Even  the  impassive  face  of  an  Indian  gave  way  to 
a  surprise  which  could  hardly  be  feigned  when 
he  also  counted  the  skins  and  there  were  but 
five. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  lying,  Blackburn ;  but  I  think  not. 
16 


242  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

Do  not  let  the  other  boys  hear  you,  but  go  and  talk 
with  the  other  redskins,  and  find  out  what  you  can. 
I  will  play  with  him  here.  You  see  Ransom  never 
sent  that  bale  of  skins  all  the  way  here  with  nothing 
in  it.  Bring  me  our  long  pipe  first." 

Blackburn  brought  the  pipe  lighted.  Nolan 
spread  one  of  the  skins,  and  invited  Crooked 
Feather  to  sit  on  it.  He  sat  on  another  himself. 
He  threw  one  on  his  knees.  He  threw  another 
on  the  Feather's  knees.  He  drew  a  few  whiffs  of 
smoke,  and  gave  the  pipe  to  the  other.  They  re- 
newed this  ceremony  three  or  four  times.  Then 
Nolan  opened  his  private  flask  of  whiskey,  and 
drank  from  it.  He  offered  it  to  the  other,  who  did 
the  same,  not  with  the  same  moderation  which  his 
host  had  shown.  After  these  ceremonies,  the  white 
man  said  gravely,  without  even  looking  the  other  in 
the  face, — 

"  The  white  squaw  and  the  gray-haired  chief  gave 
to  my  brother  another  token.  I  am  ready  to  receive 
that  from  the  Crooked  Feather." 

The  Crooked  Feather,  who  had  till  this  moment 
conceived  the  hope  that  he  might  retain  the  little 
prayer-book  for  a  medicine  and  benediction  for 
himself  and  his  line  forever,  gave  way  at  the  mo- 
ment, took  it  from  his  pouch,  and  gave  it  to  Nolan. 

"  The  chief  of  the  long-knives  says  well.  The  old 
chief  and  the  white  squaw  gave  me  this  medicine  for 
the  chief  of  the  long-knives." 

Nolan  cut,  only  too  eagerly,  the  thongs  which 
bound  the  missal-book,  and  opened  it.  He  wholly 
concealed  his  surprise  when  he  saw  what  it  was. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  243 

Rapidly  he  turned  every  page  to  make  sure  that 
no  note  was  concealed  within  them.  He  placed 
it  in  his  own  pouch,  drew  three  more  whiffs  from 
the  pipe,  and  waited  till  the  Crooked  Feather 
did  the  same.  He  pretended  to  drink  from  the 
flask  again;  and  the  Feather  did  so,  without  pre- 
tence or  disguise. 

Nolan  then  said,  — 

"  The  white  squaw  and  the  white  chief  gave  my 
brother  another  medicine.  They  gave  him  a  white 
medicine,  like  the  bark  of  a  canoe-birch  folded." 

He  looked,  as  he  spoke,  at  a  distant  tree,  as  though 
there  were  no  Crooked  Feather  in  the  world. 

Crooked  Feather,  looking  also  across  at  the  camp- 
fire,  as  though  there  were  no  Nolan  in  the  world, 
said, — 

"  The  chief  of  the  long-knives  lies.  I  have  given 
to  him  all  the  tokens  and  all  the  medicines  which  the 
white  squaw  gave  me,  or  the  white-haired  white  chief. 
Let  the  chief  of  the  long-knives  give  his  token  to  the 
Crooked  Feather.  The  Crooked  Feather  will  give  it 
to  the  white  squaw  before  seven  suns  have  set.  The 
white  squaw  will  give  the  Crooked  Feather  more 
sugar  than  a  bear  can  eat  in  a  day." 

This  dream  of  heaven  was  put  in  words  without 
a  gesture  or  a  smile. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Nolan  quietly.  "  Let  us  come  to 
the  camp-fire.  The  Crooked  Feather  has  ridden  far 
to-day.  My  young  men  have  turkey-meat  and  deer- 
meat  waiting  for  him." 

They  parted  at  the  fire,  and  in  a  moment  more 
Nolan  was  in  consultation  with  Blackburn. 


244  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

Blackburn  told  him  what  he  had  drawn  from  the 
others  without  difficulty.  They  had  confirmed  all 
that  the  Crooked  Feather  had  said.  They  had  added 
what  he  would  have  added  had  he  been  asked  the 
history  of  their  march.  In  the  first  place,  they  knew 
nothing  of  Harrod  or  of  the  other  lost  men.  They 
had  not  long  been  camping  by  Antonio,  nor  had  they 
any  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  such  a  party  as 
his.  In  the  ,  second  place,  they  had  carefully  de- 
scribed Miss  Eunice,  Miss  Inez,  the  White  Hawk,  and 
Ransom,  with  precision  of  details  such  as  none  but 
Indians  would  be  capable  of.  There  could  be  no 
doubt,  in  the  mind  of  either  Nolan  or  Blackburn,  that 
on  the  very  last  Tuesday  they  had  left  their  camp  by 
the  river,  and  had  started  with  the  parcel  of  furs,  the 
packet,  and  the  riding-whip.  That  the  parcel  con- 
tained six  skins  when  they  started,  Blackburn  was 
sure.  The  men  all  said  so.  They  had  opened  it, 
and  counted  them.  Nor  did  they  even  now  know 
that  its  tale  was  not  full.  Blackburn  was  sure  that, 
if  Crooked  Feather  had  tampered  with  it,  they  had 
not.  Nolan  was  equally  sure  that  the  chief  had  not. 
He  had,  indeed,  no  motive  to  do  so.  His  only  object 
must  be  to  discharge  his  mission  thoroughly,  if  he 
discharged  it  at  all.  Had  he  wanted  to  steal  a 
wretched  antelope-skin,  why,  he  would  have  stolen 
the  whole  pack. 

Blackburn  thought  he  gave  more  light  when  he 
told  his  chief  the  story  of  the  encampment  by  the 
Guadaloupe  River ;  and  here  Nolan  was  at  one  with 
him.  If  a  Franciscan  father  plied  them  all  with 
brandy,  he  had  his  reasons.  If  he  plied  them  with 


or,  Show  your  Passports  245 

brandy,  they  all  slept  soundly,  and  kept  no  watch 
that  night.  If  he  were  curious  about  their  enterprise, 
he  would  inform  himself  of  it. 

"  Blackburn,  on  the  other  skin  there  was  a  picture- 
writing  which  told  us  just  what  we  want  to  know." 

"  That's  what  I  say  too,"  said  Blackburn  promptly. 

"  Blackburn,  in  this  parcel,  with  this  little  prayer- 
book,  was  a  note  which  told  us  just  what  we  want  to 
know." 

"  That 's  what  I  say." 

"And  that  fellow  with  a  long  brown  nightgown, 
tied  up  with  a  halter  round  his  waist,  has  got  it." 

So  saying,  Nolan  for  the  last  time  turned  over  the 
book  of  hours,  and  Blackburn  turned  to  leave  his 
pensive  chief. 

"  Halloo  !     Blackburn,  come  back !  " 

And  Nolan  led  him  to  a  secluded  shelter,  where 
they  were  out  of  ear-shot  or  eye-shot. 

"  See  here,  and  here,  and  here,  and  here;  "  and  he 
pointed  one  by  one  to  the  four  ornamented  pages  of 
the  prayer-book. 

"  Miss  Perry  was  as  much  afraid  of  these  night- 
gown men  as  I  am.  She  has  sent  her  message  in 
writing  they  do  not  learn  at  Rome." 

Sure  enough :  in  miniature  work  quite  as  elegant 
as  many  a  priest  has  wrought  in,  Eunice  had  substi- 
tuted for  the  original  illustrations  of  the  book  a 
series  on  vellum  which  much  better  answered  her 
present  purpose.  The  pictures  were  all  Bible  pic- 
tures ;  and  the  figures  were  drawn  in  the  quaint  style 
of  the  original.  But  every  scene  was  a  scene  of  part- 
ing, and  illustrated  the  beginning  of  a  retreat. 


246  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

Here  was  Abraham  going  up  out  of  Egypt,  very 
rich  in  cattle.  Strange  to  say,  the  cattle  were  all 
horses,  and  in  Abraham's  turban  was  a  long  cardinal 
feather.  "  Do  you  remember,  Blackburn,  the  feather 
I  wore  the  day  I  bade  the  ladies  good-by?" 

Then  here  was  Lot  and  his  troop  turning  their 
backs  on  the  plain.  Once  more  the  preponderance 
of  horses  was  remarkable ;  and  once  more  a  brilliant 
red  feather  waved  in  Lot's  helmet. 

Blackburn  began  to  be  interested.  The  next  pic- 
ture was  of  Gideon  crossing  the  Jordan  in  his  retreat. 
There  were  spoils  of  the  Midianites,  and  especially 
horses;  and  in  Gideon's  head  waved  still  the  red 
feather. 

By  and  by  Ezra  appeared,  leading  the  Israelites 
over  the  Euphrates.  Horses  again  outnumbered  all 
the  cattle,  and  Ezra  again  wore  a  red  feather;  but  the 
chief  next  to  Ezra,  just  of  his  height  and  figure,  wore 
a  crest  of  fur. 

"See  there,  Blackburn!  She  thinks  Harrod  is 
here !  That  is  his  squirrel-tail." 

They  turned  on,  but  there  were  no  more  pictures. 
Both  men  looked  back  upon  these  four;  and  it  was 
then  that  Nolan's  eye  caught  the  figures  in  black- 
letter  at  the  bottom  of  the  first,  — 

Eton.  iff.  31,  32;  Eeut.ii.  9. 

"Halloo,  Blackburn!  what  is  this?"  cried  he. 
"  There  is  nothing  about  Abraham  in  Deuteronomy, 
nor  in  Exodus  either." 

In  a  moment  Blackburn  had  brought  to  his  chief, 
from  a  little  box  at  the  head  of  his  sleeping-bunk,  the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  247 

Bible  which  accompanied  him  in  his  journeys.     A 
moment  more  had  found  the  warning  texts,  — 

"  Rise  up,  and  get  you  forth  from  among  my  people,  both  ye 
and  the  children  of  Israel ;  and  go,  serve  the  Lord  as  ye  have 
said. 

"  Also  take  your  flocks  and  your  herds,  as  ye  have  said,  and 
be  gone ;  and  bless  me  also." 

"  And  the  Lord  said  unto  me,  Distress  not  the  Moabites, 
neither  contend  with  them  in  battle  ;  for  I  will  not  give  thee  of 
their  land  for  a  possession." 

Nolan  read  aloud  to  Blackburn;  and  then,  as  he 
looked  for  more  messages,  he  said,  — 

"  It  is  all  of  a  piece  with  old  Ransom's  token.  They 
think  the  country  is  too  hot  for  us,  and  they  mean  to 
put  us  on  our  guard.  See,  Blackburn,  what  comes 
next." 

Under  Lot  and  his  party  were  the  letters, — 

3o0fj,  ix.  I,  2. 

"  Lucky  the  Franciscan  blackleg  did  not  know  Lot 
was  not  cousin  of  Joshua/'  growled  Nolan. 
He  turned  up  the  text  to  read, — 

"And  it  came  to  pass  when  all  the  kings  which  were  on  this 
side  Jordan,  in  the  hills,  and  in  the  valleys,  .  .  .  heard  thereof; 

"  That  they  gathered  themselves  together,  to  fight  with 
Joshua  and  with  Israel,  with  one  accord." 

Under  the  next  pictures  were  the  letters, — 

3ulig.  xi.  17* 
And  the  interpretation  proved  to  be,  — 


248  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"  Then  Israel  sent  messengers  unto  the  king  of  Edom,  saying, 
Let  me,  I  pray  thee,  pass  through  thy  land ;  but  the  king  of 
Edom  would  not  hearken  thereto." 

"  This  is  plain  talk,  Blackburn,"  said  the  chief  after 
a  moment's  pause. 

"Yes,  captain;  and  do  you  see?  —  " 

The  man  took  the  book  carefully  from  his  chief, 
and  showed  him,  far  in  the  distance  of  each  picture 
of  the  four,  a  three-domed  cathedral  with  three 
crosses. 

"  Them 's  the  crosses  of  Chihuahua ;  I  Ve  heard  on 
'em  hundreds  of  times.  Has  not  thee,  captain?" 

"  Heard  of  them !  I  have  seen  them.  You  are 
right,  Blackburn.  It  is  from  Chihuahua  that  our 
enemy  is  coming,  and  from  Chihuahua  that  we  must 
look  for  him.  Now  what  is  this?  " 

And  he  turned  once  more  to  the  picture  of  Ezra 
with  his  cardinal.  The  warning  texts  were,  — 

3E#ra  but*  10 1  lExofc.  ib.  6. 

"  And  of  the  sons  of  Shelomith ;  the  son  of  Josiphiah,  and 
with  him  an  hundred  and  threescore  males." 

"I  do  not  care  what  his  name  is,  Blackburn;  but, 
if  he  has  a  hundred  and  sixty  Spanish  lancers  of  the 
male  sort  after  him,  they  are  too  many  for  us.  What 
is  her  other  text?" 

"And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  if  they  will  not  believe  thee, 
neither  hearken  to  the  voice  of  the  first  sign,  that  they  will 
believe  the  voice  of  the  latter  sign." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  Nolan  sadly  or  dully,  as 
Blackburn  might  choose  to  think,  —  "I  should  think 


or,  Show  your  Passports  249 

so,  unless  they  wanted  to  be  marched,  every  man  of 
them,  into  the  mines  at  New  Mexico. 

"  Blackburn,  an  hour  after  sunrise  to-morrow  we 
will  be  gone." 

"  I  say  so  too,"  replied  the  subordinate,  by  no  means 
ill  pleased. 

"  Get  the  redskins  well  off  to-night.  We  will  say 
nothing  to  the  boys  till  they  are  well  gone." 

Accordingly  a  grand  farewell  feast  was  improvised 
for  Crooked  Feather.  The  very  scanty  stores  of 
whiskey  which  were  left  in  the  hunters1  provisions 
were  largely  drawn  upon.  A  pipe  of  peace  was 
smoked ;  and  Crooked  Feather  and  his  men  were 
started  on  their  return  with  haste  which  might  have 
seemed  suspicious,  had  they  been  more  sober. 

Perhaps  it  seemed  suspicious  as  it  was. 

Crooked  Feather  bore  with  him  the  "  medicine- 
paper"  which  he  coveted,  the  display  of  which  to 
White  Hawk,  to  the  white-haired  chief,  or  to  the 
white  lady,  to  either  or  to  all,  would  produce  the 
much-coveted  and  well-earned  sugar. 

CHAPTER  XX 

A  TERTULIA 

"  Come  to  our /*?/<?,  and  bring  with  thee 
Thy  newest,  best  embroidery ; 
Bring  thy  best  lace,  and  bring  thy  rings : 
Bring,  child,  in  short,  thy  prettiest  things." 

After  MOORE. 

CROOKED  FEATHER  was  not  false  to  his  promise; 
and  on  this  occasion  he  met  neither  medicine-man  nor 


250  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

ghostly  father  to  hinder  him  on  his  way.  On  the  thir- 
teenth day  from  that  on  which  he  started,  he  came  in 
sight  of  the  crosses  of  Antonio.  He  found  his  own 
party  encamped  not  far  distant  from  the  place  where 
he  had  left  them.  No  sign  of  surprise  or  affection 
greeted  the  return  of  the  party.  They  swung  them- 
selves sullenly  from  their  horses,  and  gave  them 
to  the  care  of  the  women.  Crooked  Feather  satisfied 
himself  that  neither  of  the  three  whites  who  were 
authorized  to  receive  his  token  had  come  out  to 
meet  him.  He  was  too  taciturn  and  too  proud  to 
confess  his  disappointment, —  for  disappointment  he 
really  felt.  He  solaced  himself  by  devouring  a  bit  of 
the  mesquit,  —  a  rabbit  which  he  tore  limb  from  limb 
with  his  fingers.  He  then  bade  his  wife  bring  out 
another  horse ;  and,  without  his  companions  this 
time,  he  rode  into  the  Presidio  with  his  token. 

He  gave  a  wide  berth  to  every  man  who  wore  a 
black  coat  or  cassock.  His  memories  of  the  head- 
ache which  followed  his  last  debauch  were  too  fresh, 
and  the  shame  he  felt  at  being  outwitted  by  the 
scalped  fathers  was  too  great  for  him  to  trust  him- 
self to  such  guides  again. 

Lounging  in  part  of  Major  Barelo's  quarters,  he 
found  old  Ransom. 

"  Back  agen,  be  ye?  "  said  the  old  man  with  undis- 
guised surprise.  "  Come  into  the  yard  with  me. 
Yarg !  Go  ask  the  Senora  Perry  if  she  will  have  the 
kindness  to  come  down." 

The  savage  swung  himself  from  his  beast;  and 
Ransom  bade  an  attendant  idler  secure  him,  while  he 
led  Crooked  Feather  into  the  more  private  court- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  251 

yard.     In  a  minute  Eunice  appeared.     The  two  girls 
were  not  with  her. 

No  interpreter  was  needed,  however.  The  savage 
was  too  eager  to  be  well  done  with  his  disagreeable 
expedition.  In  a  moment  he  produced  the  tobacco- 
pouch  which  Nolan  had  given  him.  In  a  moment 
more  Ransom  had  found  the  secret  of  its  fastening, 
and  had  opened  it.  In  a  moment  more  Eunice  had 
torn  open  the  letter,  and  had  read  it 

PHILIP  NOLAN  TO  EUNICE  PERRY. 

March  21. 

Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your  warning.  Fortu- 
nately you  are  in  time.  A  rascally  priest  stole  your  letter, 
and  whatever  was  on  an  antelope-skin.  But  I  have  the 
prayer-book,  and  I  have  Ransom's  whip.  Thank  the  old 
fellow  for  us.  We  are  off  before  daylight ;  and  I  send  this 
red-skin  off  now,  that  he  may  not  see  our  trail.  Good-by, 
and  God  bless  you  all !  P.  N. 

"  God  be  praised,  indeed !  "  said  Eunice,  as  she 
read  the  letter  a  second  time,  this  time  reading  aloud 
to  Ransom,  but  in  her  lowest  tones,  that  not  even  the 
walls  might  hear.  "  God  be  praised  !  This  is  good 
news  indeed.  See  the  man  has  his  sugar,  Ransom ;  " 
and  then  she  turned,  gave  her  hand  to  the  savage, 
smiled,  and  thanked  him.  With  a  moment  more  she 
was  in  her  own  room,  and  had  summoned  the  two 
girls  to  share  her  delight  and  triumph. 

The  letter  was  read  to  Inez,  and  it  was  translated 
to  the  White  Hawk.  Then  Inez  took  it,  and  read  it 
herself,  and  turned  it  most  carefully  over.  It  was 
only  after  a  pause  that  she  said,  "  Are  you  sure  there 


252  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

was  no  other  letter,  that  there  was  nothing  more?*' 
And  then  Eunice  wondered  too,  and  sent  to  recall 
Ransom.  There  might  have  been  something  else  in 
the  tobacco-pouch. 

No  !  there  was  nothing  more  in  the  tobacco-pouch. 
Inez  even  clipped  out  the  lining  of  it  with  her  scis- 
sors. There  was  nothing  more  there;  there  had 
been  nothing  more  there. 

None  the  less  was  Inez  resolved  that  she  would 
ride  out  with  the  White  Hawk  the  next  morning,  and 
have  an  interview  with  the  Crooked  Feather.  The 
Crooked  Feather  could,  at  the  least,  tell  whom  he 
had  found  at  the  encampment. 

And  then  the  three  ladies  began  their  preparations 
for  the  tertulia  of  the  evening,  with  more  animation 
and  joyfulness  than  they  had  felt  for  many,  many 
days. 

"  What  in  the  world  shall  I  say  to  your  horrible 
Mr.  Lonsdale,  aunt,  if  he  should  take  it  into  his  grave 
old  island  head  to  ask  me  what  makes  me  so 
happy ?" 

"  What,  indeed?  "  said  Eunice.  "  We  must  not  tell 
him  any  lies.  You  must  change  the  subject  bravely. 
You  must  ask  him  what  are  the  favorite  dances  in 
London. " 

"  Eunice,  I  will  ask  him  if  his  old  Queen  Charlotte 
dances  the  bolero.  I  will.  I  should  like  to  show 
him  that  I  know  him  perfectly  well,  and  through  and 
through." 

"I  wish  I  did,"  said  Eunice,  stopping  in  her  toilet, 
and  looking  at  Inez  almost  anxiously. 

"Wish  you  did?     Then  I  will  tell  you  in  one  min- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  253 

ute.  He  is  a  hateful  old  spy  of  a  hateful  old  king. 
And  what  he  is  here  for,  I  do  not  see.  What  was 
the  use  of  our  beating  the  redcoats  and  Hessians  all 
out  of  our  country,  if,  after  it  is  all  over,  we  are  to 
have  these  spies  coming  back  to  look  round  and  see 
if  they  have  not  forgotten  something?  " 

"  Don't  talk  too  loud,  pussy,"  said  her  aunt,  taking 
up  the  comb  again.  "  What  would  General  Herrara 
say  if  he  heard  you  call  this  your  country,  and  if  you 
told  him  you  thought  he  ought  to  turn  all  travelling 
Englishmen  out  of  it?  " 

"  Travelling  fiddlesticks  !  "  cried  the  impetuous 
girl.  "  Do  you  tell  me  that  an  English  gentleman, 
like  dear  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  who  was  a  gentle- 
man, has  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  cross  the 
ocean  and  come  all  the  way  up  to  this  corner  of  the 
world  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  Senora  Valois,  and 
to  dance  a  minuet  with  me?" 

"  He  might  be  worse  employed,  I  think,"  said 
Aunt  Eunice,  catching  and  kissing  the  impetuous 
girl,  whose  cheeks  glowed  as  her  eyes  blazed  with 
her  excitement;  "  and  I  believe  dear  Sir  Charles's 
grandson  would  say  so  too,  if  he  were  here.  Come, 
come,  come !  Mary  is  wondering  what  you  are 
storming  about,  and  all  your  pantomime  will  never 
explain  to  her.  Come,  come,  come !  How  nice  it  is 
to  be  able  to  go  to  a  party  without  setting  foot  out 
of  doors !  " 

It  was  indeed  true,  that,  by  one  of  the  corridor  or 
cloister  arrangements  which  gave  a  certain  Moorish 
aspect  to  the  little  military  station,  there  was  a  pas- 
sage, quite  "  practicable,"  through  which,  without 


254  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

putting  foot  to  the  earth,  the  three  ladies  passed  to 
the  saloons  of  Madame  de  Valois,  where  the  brilliant 
party  of  the  evening  was  gathering.  The  home  of 
this  lady  was  in  the  city  of  Chihuahua;  but,  fortu- 
nately for  our  ladies,  in  this  eventful  winter  she  was 
making  a  long  visit  at  San  Antonio.  She  had  chosen 
this  evening  to  give  a  brilliant  party,  by  way  of  return- 
ing the  civilities  which  she  had  received  from  the 
ladies  of  the  Presidio. 

All  three  of  the  American  ladies  were  welcomed 
with  cordial  and  even  enthusiastic  courtesy.  The 
White  Hawk  was  quite  used,  by  this  time,  to  the 
pretty  French  dresses  in  which  Inez  was  so  fond  of 
arraying  her.  She  could  speak  but  little  English, 
less  French,  and  still  less  Spanish ;  and  she  could 
dance  but  little  English,  less  French,  and  less"  Span- 
ish. But  the  minuet,  as  has  been  intimated,  was  the 
common  property  of  the  world ;  and  Inez  had  spent 
time  enough  in  compelling  Ma-ry  to  master  its  intri- 
cacies, to  be  rewarded  by  no  small  measure  of  suc- 
cess. She  said,  herself,  that  Ma-ry's  mistakes  were 
as  pretty  as  other  people's  victories.  For  the  rest, 
in  all  civilizations,  the  language  of  the  ballroom  re- 
quires but  a  limited  vocabulary,  so  there  be  only  fans 
and  eyes  to  supply  the  place  of  words. 

Inez  had  not  been  wrong  in  suspecting  that  she 
should  come  to  a  trial  of  wits  with  Mr.  Lonsdale. 
"  See  what  he  will  get  out  of  me/'  she  whispered  dis- 
dainfully to  her  aunt,  as  Mr.  Lonsdale  was  seen  bear- 
ing down  to  cut  her  out  from  the  protection  of  Miss 
Perry's  batteries. 

"And  what  is  your  news  from  home,  Miss  Inez?" 


or,  Show  your  Passports  255 

This  was  his  first  question  after  they  had  taken 
their  places  for  the  dance. 

"  Oh,  we  feel  that  we  bring  home  with  us !  It 
would  be  quite  home  were  only  papa  here,  and  my 
brother." 

Thus  did  Inez  reply. 

"  Indeed,  you  are  more  fortunate  than  the  rest  of 
us.  We  cannot  carry  our  household  gods  with  us  so 
easily." 

Inez  bit  her  lip  that  she  need  not  say,  "  Why  do 
you  come  at  all  if  you  do  not  like  to  be  here?  "  But 
she  said  nothing. 

Mr.  Lonsdale  had  to  begin  again,  —  a  thing  which 
was  then,  as  it  is  now,  difficult  to  men  of  his  nation 
engaged  in  conversation. 

"  I  meant  to  ask  what  is  your  news  from  the  United 
States.  Is  Mr.  Jefferson  the  President?  or  does  Pres- 
ident Adams  continue  for  another  term  of  office?" 

Inez  was  indignant  with  the  man,  because  he  had 
not  in  any  way  thrown  himself  open  to  her  repartee. 
The  question  was  perfectly  proper,  perfectly  harm- 
less ;  and  it  was  one,  alas !  which  she  could  not 
answer. 

"  I  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  him,"  she  said 
afterward  to  her  aunt.  "  So  I  told  him  the  truth." 

What  she  did  say  was  this :  — 

"  I  do  not  know,  and  I  wish  I  did,  Mr.  Lonsdale." 

"  And  which  candidate  do  you  vote  for,  Miss 
Perry?" 

"  The  hateful  creature  !  "  This  was  Inez's  inward 
ejaculation.  "  He  means  to  draw  out  of  me  the 
material  for  his  next  despatch  to  the  tyrant.  Sooner 


256  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

shall  he  draw  out  my  tongue,  or  my  heart  itself  from 
my  bosom. " 

Fortunately,  however,  it  would  have  been  difficult 
for  Inez  to  tell  which  her  predilections  were.  She 
answered,  still  with  the  craft  of  honesty,  — 

"  Oh,  papa  thinks  President  Adams  is  too  hard  on 
our  French  friends.  For  me,  I  am  a  Massachusetts 
girl,  and  I  cannot  bear  to  have  a  Massachusetts 
president  defeated ;  and  then,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  Colonel 
Freeman  says  that  Colonel  Burr  is  a  very  handsome 
man,  and  a  very  gallant  soldier.  He  fought  at 
Monmouth,  Mr.  Lonsdale:  did  you  see  him  there, 
perhaps?" 

And  here  the  impudent  girl  looked  up  mali- 
ciously, well  satisfied  that  she  had  in  one  word  im- 
plied that  Lonsdale  was  at  least  forty  years  old,  and 
that  he  had  turned  his  back  in  battle. 

He  was  well  pleased,  on  his  part,  and  amused  with 
the  rencontre. 

"  I  did  not  see  him  at  Monmouth,1'  he  said,  with 
more  animation  than  she  had  ever  seen  him  show 
before.  "  I  do  not  remember :  I  had  not  begun  my 
diary  then.  I  think  I  must  have  been  knocking  ring- 
taws  against  an  old  brick  wall  we  had  in  the  garden. 
But  I  have  seen  Colonel  Burr.  I  have  seen  him  take 
Miss  Schuyler  down  the  dance,  and  he  did  dance 
very  elegantly,  Miss  Perry." 

" Pray  where  was  that?"  said  Inez;  and  then  she 
was  enraged  with  herself  that  she  should  have  be- 
trayed any  interest  in  the  spy's  conversation. 

"  Oh !  it  was  at  a  very  brilliant  party  in  New  York. 
Colonel  Burr  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  favorite  among 


or,  Show  your  Passports  257 

ladies,  and  I  see  you  think  so  too.  But  I  think  that 
even  in  America  they  have  no  votes." 

"  I  was  even  with  him,  aunty.  I  said  that  in  New 
Jersey  they  had  votes,  and  that  Colonel  Burr  came 
from  New  Jersey." 

"  You  little  goose  !  "  said  Eunice,  when  Inez  made 
this  confession.  "  What  in  the  world  had  that  to  do 
with  it?" 

"Well,  aunty,  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  it;  but  it 
was  very  important  to  prove  that  Mr.  Lonsdale  was 
always  in  the  wrong." 

And  in  such  a  spirit  Miss  Inez's  conversation  with 
poor  Lonsdale  went  forward,  till  this  particular  dance 
was  done. 

The  pretty  and  lively  girl  was  demanded  by  other 
partners,  and  she  had,  indeed,  wasted  quite  as  much 
of  her  wit,  not  to  say  of  her  impertinence,  as  she 
chose,  upon  the  man  whom  she  called  a  "British 
spy,"  and  who,  let  it  be  confessed,  added  to  other 
mortal  sins  that  of  being  at  least  three  and  thirty 
years  of  age,  and  that  of  dancing  as  badly  as 
the  First  Consul  himself.  Inez  did  not  pretend  to 
disguise  her  satisfaction,  as  he  led  her  back  to  her 
duenna,  and  she  was  permitted  to  give  her  hand  to 
some  ensign  of  two  and  twenty. 

Lonsdale  turned,  amused  more  than  discomfited, 
to  Eunice. 

"  Miss  Perry  will  not  forgive  me  for  the  sin  of  sins/' 

"And  what  is  that?  "  said  Eunice,  laughing. 

"  Oh,  you  know  very  well !  The  sin  of  sins  is 
that  I  am  born  the  subject  of  King  George,  and  that 
at  her  behest  I  do  not  renounce  all  allegiance  to  him, 

17 


258  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

whenever  I  pray  to  be  delivered  from  all  the  snares 
of  the  Devil." 

Eunice  laughed  again. 

"I  hope  you  pardon  something  to  the  spirit  of  a 
girl  who  is  born  under  a  sceptre  much  more  heavy 
than  that  of  the  '  best  of  kings.'  " 

Lonsdale  might  take  "  best  of  kings  "  as  he  chose. 
It  was  the  cant  phrase  by  which  King  George  was 
called  by  poets-laureate  and  others  of  their  kidney, 
till  a  time  long  after  this. 

"  Oh !  I  can  pardon  anything  to  seventeen,  when 
seventeen  is  as  frank,  not  to  say  as  piquant,  as  it  is 
yonder.  Miss  Inez  does  not  let  her  admirers  com- 
plain of  her  insincerity." 

"  No  !  She  has  faults  enough,  I  suppose ;  though 
I  love  her  too  well  to  judge  her  harshly  enough,  I 
know.  But,  among  those  faults,  no  one  would  count 
a  want  of  frankness." 

"Still,"  said  Lonsdale,  hesitating  now,  and  ap- 
proaching his  subject  with  an  Englishman's  rather 
clumsy  determination  to  say  the  thing  he  hates  to 
say,  and  to  be  done  with  it,  —  "  still  it  seems  to  me  a 
little  queer  that  Miss  Inez  can  forgive  all  enemies 
save  those  of  her  own  blood.  After  all,  it  is  English 
blood ;  her  language  is  the  English  language,  and 
her  faith  is  the  English  faith.  Why  should  she  speak 
to  an  Englishman  with  a  bitterness  with  which  no 
French  girl  speaks,  and  no  Spanish  girl?  We  have 
fought  the  French,  and  we  have  fought  the  Spaniards, 
harder  and  longer  than  we  ever  fought  your  people ; 
and  I  may  say,"  said  he,  laughing  now,  "  we  have 
punished  them  worse." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  259 

"  Oh !  Mr.  Lonsdale,"  said  Eunice,  who  would 
gladly  have  parried  a  subject  so  delicate,  "  do  not  be 
so  sensitive.  Pardon  something  to  '  sweet  seventeen/ 
and  something  to  the  exaggeration  of  a  girl  who  has 
never  set  foot  in  her  own  country." 

11  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean  that  this  poor  child  is  an  exaggerated 
American.  She  was  born  under  the  flag  of  Spain. 
She  has  heard  of  the  excellencies  of  Washington  and 
Adams  and  Franklin.  She  has  never  seen  the  little- 
nesses of  their  countrymen.  She  has  heard  of  the 
trials  of  her  father's  friends.  She  has  never  seen  the 
pettiness  of  daily  politics.  She  wants  to  show  her 
patriotism  somewhere,  and  she  shows  it  by  her  rail- 
lery of  an  Englishman.  I  trust,  indeed,  that  she  has 
not  been  rude,  Mr.  Lonsdale." 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  your  pupil  does  you  all  credit 
and  honor,  Miss  Perry.  Miss  Inez  could  not  be 
rude,  be  assured.  But  it  is  not  of  her  only  that  I  am 
speaking.  Remember,  —  nay,  you  do  not  know, — 
but  I  have  met  your  fair  countrywomen  in  their 
homes,  in  Boston,  in  New  York,  in  Philadelphia.  I 
have  met  them,  I  have  danced  with  them,  as  with 
Miss  Inez  on  this  outpost.  Always  it  is  the  same. 
Always  courtesy,  —  hospitality  if  you  please,  —  but 
always  defiance.  France,  Spain,  poor  Portugal  even, 
—  nay,  a  stray  Dutchman,  —  they  welcome  cordially. 
But  an  Englishman,  —  because  he  speaks  their  lan- 
guage, is  it?  —  because  he  prays  to  God,  and  not 
to  God's  mother,  is  it?" — and  this  Lonsdale  said 
reverently,  —  "  an  Englishman  must  be  taught,  be- 
tween two  movements  of  the  minuet,  that  George  III. 


260  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

is  the  worst  of  tyrants,  and  that  a  red  coat  is  the 
disguise  of  a  monster.  Why  is  this,  Miss  Perry? 
As  I  say,  no  French  girl  speaks  so  to  an  English 
traveller;  no  Spanish  girl  speaks  so.  Yet  our  arms 
have  triumphed  over  France  and  Spain ;  and  —  hear 
me  confess  it  —  they  have  been  humbled,  as  they 
never  were  humbled  elsewhere,  by  our  own  children. 
Is  that  any  reason  why  our  children  should  hate  us?" 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  Eunice  Perry  look  now 
timid  and  now  brave.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see 
her  look  him  full  in  the  face,  and  then  look  down 
upon  the  ground  without  speaking.  She  tried  to 
speak,  and  she  stopped.  She  hesitated  once  and  again. 
Then,  after  a  flush,  the  blood  wholly  left  her  cheek. 
But  she  looked  him  square  in  the  eye,  and  said, — 

"  You  are  frank  with  me,  Mr.  Lonsdale :  let  me  be 
frank  with  you.  Surely  I  can  be  frank,  —  it  is  best 
that  I  should  be.  For  it  is  not  of  you  that  I  speak : 
it  is  of  your  country,  or  of  your  king.  Will  you  re- 
member, then,  that  you  introduced  this  subject,  and 
not  I?" 

Lonsdale  was  startled  by  her  seriousness,  though 
he  had  been  serious.  But  he  said, — 

"Certainly,  certainly:  pray  say  what  is  on  your 
heart.  Whatever  you  say,  I  deserve.  You  parried 
my  questions  as  long  as  you  could." 

"  Surely  I  did.  The  conversation  is  none  of  my 
seeking,"  said  Eunice,  really  proudly. 

Then  she  paused,  and  looked  again  upon  the 
ground ;  but,  when  she  had  collected  herself,  she 
looked  him  fairly  in  the  face,  as  before. 

"  Mr.  Lonsdale,  when  you  fight  France,  you  fight 


or,  Show  your  Passports  261 

her  navies;  when  you  fought  Spain,  you  fought 
her  armies.  No  French  girl  has  seen  an  English 
soldier  on  French  soil  since  Cressy  and  Agincourt. 
But,  when  you  fought  us,  you  fought  us  in  our  homes. 
Nay,  where  we  had  no  armies,  your  cruisers  and 
squadrons  could  easily  land  soldiers  on  our  shores, 
and  did.  Where  we  had  no  forts,  it  was  easiest  to 
burn  our  villages.  From  Falmouth  (you  do  not  know 
where  Falmouth  is)  to  Savannah  (you  do  not  know 
where  that  is),  there  are  not  fifty  miles  of  our  coast 
where  an  English  cruiser  or  an  English  fleet  has  not 
landed  English  troops.  There  is  not  a  region  of  my 
country  fifty  miles  wide,  but  has  seen  an  inroad  of 
marauding  English  seamen  or  soldiers.  Your  jour- 
nals laughed  at  your  admirals  for  campaigns  which 
ended  in  stealing  sheep.  But,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  because 
my  father's  sheep  were  stolen  by  Admiral  Graves's 
fleet,  I,  who  talk  with  you,  have  walked  barefoot  with 
these  feet  for  twelve  months  at  a  time  in  my  girlhood. 
Nay,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  I  have  seen  my  mother's  ears 
bleeding,  because  an  English  marine  dragged  her 
ear-rings  from  her  ears.  What  French  girl  lives  who 
can  tell  you  such  a  story?  —  what  Spanish  girl? 
There  is  not  a  county  in  America,  but  a  thousand 
girls,  whom  you  meet  as  you  meet  Inez,  could  tell 
you  such ;  would  tell  you  such,  but  that  our  nations 
are  now,  thank  God !  at  peace,  and  you  have  come 
among  them  as  a  stranger  who  is  a  friend.  They  do 
not  tell  the  story.  It  is  only  I  who  tell  the  story. 
But  they  remember  the  thing.  Pardon  me,  Mr. 
Lonsdale.  I  did  not  want  to  say  this ;  and  yet  per- 
haps it  is  better  that  it  is  said." 


262  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"Better!"  said  the  Englishman;  "a  thousand 
times  better.  It  is  the  truth.  And  really  —  I  would 
not,  —  really,  you  know,  —  I  would  not,  I  could  not, 
have  pressed,  had  I  thought  for  a  moment  that  I 
should  give  you  pain." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  that/'  said  Eunice  simply ; 
and,  with  an  effort,  she  changed  the  subject.  But, 
after  a  beginning  like  this,  the  Englishman  could  not, 
even  if  he  would,  bring  round  her  talk  to  the  subject 
of  Philip  Nolan  and  his  hunters. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE     MAN     I     HATE 

"  But  Wisdom,  peevish  and  cross-grained, 
Must  be  opposed  to  be  sustained." 

MATT.  PRIOR. 

BUT  Inez  had  no  chance  for  further  colloquy  with  her 
aunt  that  evening.  And,  when  they  came  home  from 
the  little  ball,  perhaps  Inez  was  tired,  perhaps  her 
aunt  was  tired.  Inez  was  conscious  that  she  was  cross ; 
and  she  felt  sure  that  Aunt  Eunice  was  reserved  and 
not  communicative. 

The  next  morning  she  attacked  her  to  find  out 
what  she  had  learned  from  the  mysterious  English- 
man ;  the  spy,  as  she  persevered  in  calling  him. 

"  Is  he  Blount,  dear  aunt?  I  have  felt  so  sure  that 
he  was  Blount  under  a  false  name.  I  suppose  he  has 
a  new  name  for  every  country  he  goes  into,  and  every 
time  he  changes  his  coat.  I  only  wish  I  had  called 


or,  Show  your  Passports  263 

him  '  Mr.  Blount/  to  see  the  color  come  for  once 
on  those  sallow  cheeks.  I  mean  to  teach  Mary  to 
call  him  'Blount," 

"  Nonsense,  child !  you  have  not  the  least  idea  of 
what  you  are  talking  about.  Mr.  Blount  is  dead,  in 
the  first  place :  he  died  last  spring.  In  the  second 
place,  and  in  the  third  place,  he  was  not  an  Eng- 
lishman at  all:  he  was  a  Tennessee  senator."  She 
dropped  her  voice,  even  in  their  own  room,  and 
said,  "  Captain  Phil  told  me  his  father  knew  him." 

Miss  Inez  was  a  little  put  down  by  this  firstly, 
secondly,  and  thirdly.  But  she  came  to  the  charge 
again.  "  Well,  I  was  only  a  girl,  and  I  did  not  under- 
stand politics.  I  thought  that  Blount  was  a  sort  of 
English  spy,  and  I  know  this  man  is." 

Eunice  took  the  magisterial  or  duennaish  manner ; 
and  the  White  Hawk  looked  from  the  one  to  the  other, 
wondering  why  Inez  was  so  much  excited,  and  why 
Eunice  seemed  so  grave. 

"  Dear  Inez,"  said  her  aunt,  "  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States  thought,  or  said  they  thought,  that  Mr. 
Blount  was  mixed  up  in  a  plot  which  King  George's 
people  had  for  getting  back  the  whole  of  our  region 

—  I  mean  of  the  American  shore  of  the  Mississippi 

—  to  the  English.     And  they  punished  him  for  it. 
And  he  died.     And  that  is  the  end  of  Mr.  Blount." 

"  What  a  provoking  old  aunt  you  are  !  Of  course 
I  do  not  care  whether  his  name  is  Blount,  or  what  it 
is,  so  long  as  I  am  sure  that  it  never  was  Lonsdale 
till  he  landed  in  Mexico.  I  am  sure  I  used  to  hear 
no  end  of  talk  about  Mr.  Blount ;  and  —  and  —  I  have 
it  —  it  was  Captain  Chisholm,  aunt.  There!  "  And 


264  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

the  girl  jumped  up,  and  performed  an  Apache  war- 
dance  with  the  White  Hawk,  in  token  that  she  had 
now  rightly  detected  the  name  of  her  enemy. 

"  You  look  as  if  you  could  scalp  him,  Inez.  Take 
care,  or  White  Hawk  will." 

"  Scalp  him  !  scalping  is  too  good  for  him,  dear 
aunt.  I  could  scalp  him  beautifully.  Let  me  show 
you."  And  she  flew  at  poor  Aunt  Eunice  on  the 
moment,  seized  from  her  luxuriant  hair  a  pretty  gold 
stiletto  on  which  it  was  wound,  gathered  the  rich  curls 
up  in  her  own  left  hand,  and  then,  waving  the  stiletto 
above  her  head,  with  a  perfect  war-cry,  affected  to 
plunge  it  into  the  offending  chevelure.  The  White 
Hawk  laughed  in  a  most  un-Indian  way;  and  poor 
Eunice  fought  valiantly  to  liberate  herself. 

When  peace  was  restored,  by  a  ransom  on  both 
sides  of  a  few  kisses,  Inez  flung  herself  on  the  floor, 
and  said,  — 

"  Respectable  lady,  will  you  tell  me  now  what  was 
your  conversation  with  Captain  Chisholm,  now  dis- 
guised in  this  presidio  under  the  fictitious  name  of 
Lonsdale,  called  an  alias  to  procurators  and  counsel 
learned  in  the  law;  otherwise  known  as  '  The  Man  I 
Hate'?"  And  she  waved  the  stiletto  again  wildly 
above  her  head. 

"  My  dear  Pussy,  Mr.  Lonsdale  is  no  more  a  soldier 
than  you  are ;  and  I  do  not  believe  he  ever  heard  of 
Captain  Chisholm.  When  he  goes  to  Orleans  they 
will  talk  to  him  about  those  things,  perhaps ;  but  in 
England  they  were  as  much  secrets  as  they  are  here/' 

"About  what  things,  dear  aunt?"  said  Inez,  as 
serious  now  as  she  had  been  outrageous. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  265 

"  About  that  foolish  plan  of  the  governor  of  Canada 
to  pick  up  the  stitches  they  dropped  when  they  lost 
the  Mississippi  River.  It  was  all  a  bold  intrigue  of 
the  people  in  Canada,  who  probably  had  some  in- 
structions from  London,  or  perhaps  only  asked  for 
some.  But  there  were  not  ten  men  in  England  who 
ever  heard  of  the  plan.  The  governor  of  Canada 
sent  this  Captain  Chisholm  through  to  us,  to  see  what 
could  be  done.  And  some  foolish  people  fell  into 
the  plot:  that  is  all." 

"  And  Mr.  Lonsdale  the  spy,  otherwise  known  as 
'  The  Man  I  Hate/  "  —  these  words  were  accompanied 
as  before  by  the  brandishing  of  the  stiletto,  — "  has 
been  sent  again  on  just  the  same  errand.  Only  this 
time  he  begins  at  Vera  Cruz  and  Mexico.  He  travels 
north  by  Monterey  and  Monte-Clovez.  He  pretends 
to  be  interested  in  volcanoes  and  botany  and  in  but- 
terflies. He  makes  weak  little  water-color  pictures, 
almost  as  bad  as  mine,  of  the  ruins  of  Tlascala 
and  Cholula.  All  this  is  a  mask,  a  vain  and  useless 
mask,  to  disguise  him  from  my  eyes  and  those  of  my 
countrymen.  But  see  how  vain  is  falsehood  before 
truth !  The  moment  he  looks  me  in  the  face,  the 
mean  disguise  falls  off,  and  the  spy  appears.  Another 
Andre,  another  Arnold,  stands  before  me,  in  the  pres- 
ence of '  THE  MAN  I  HATE/  " 

"How  did  you  find  him  out?"  asked  Eunice, 
laughing. 

"First,  Madame  Malgares  said  that  he  was  a 
hidalgo  of  the  highest  rank  at  King  George's  court, 
that  he  was  a  duke  of  the  blue  blood,  and  that  Lonsdale 
was  only  the  name  by  which  he  travels  incognito." 


266  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"But  it  is  not  a  week  since  you  told  me  that  Madame 
Malgares  was  a  fool.  I  do  not  believe  English  princes 
of  the  blood  travel  incognito  in  the  heart  of  Mexico." 

"  Madame  Malgares  may  be  a  fool,"  said  little  Inez, 
wisely;  "  but  none  the  less  may  an  acute  and  adroit 
man,  who  has  even  deceived  Miss  Eunice  Perry,  have 
dropped  his  guard  when  he  spoke  to  her." 

Inez  was,  however,  a  little  annoyed  by  her  aunt's 
retort,  and  she  tried  her  second  reason. 

"  Second,  his  talk  of  butterflies  and  of  flowers  is 
not  the  talk  of  a  virtuoso,  nor  even  of  an  artist.  It  is 
assumed."  Here  she  waved  the  dagger  again.  "  He 
talks  with  interest  when  he  drops  his  voice,  when  he 
inquires  about  President  Adams,  or  Mr.  Jefferson, 
about  Captain  Nolan,  or  —  " 

"  Heigh-ho !  "  and  her  animation  was  at  an  end ; 
and,  poor  girl,  she  really  looked  sad  and  pale. 

"  About  whom?  "  said  Eunice  thoughtlessly. 

But  Inez  was  not  to  be  caught. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  who  was  president.  What  a  shame 
it  should  take  so  long  for  news  to  come,  when  we 
came  so  quickly !  Why,  I  dare  say  Roland  knows, 
and  papa ;  and  we  know  nothing." 

But  Eunice  Perry  was  not  deceived  by  Inez's  change 
of  subject.  She  was  as  much  surprised  as  Inez  was, 
that  they  had  no  message  nor  token  from  William 
Harrod ;  and  she  was  quite  as  anxious  about  Philip 
Nolan,  too,  as  her  niece  could  be. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  moment  when  the  ladies  were 
discussing  Mr.  Lonsdale  so  coolly,  he  was  trying  to 
take  old  Ransom's  measure.  With  or  without  an  object 
of  pressing  his  inquiries,  he  had  walked  out  to  the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  267 

stables  to  have  the  personal  assurance  which  every 
good  traveller  needs,  that  the  horses  which  had 
brought  him  all  the  way  from  Mexico,  and  were  to 
carry  him  farther  on  his  journey,  were  well  cared  for. 
At  the  stables  he  found,  and  was  well  pleased  to  find, 
old  Ransom. 

"  Good-morning,  Ransom,"  he  said,  half  shyly  and 
half  proudly.  He  spoke,  unconsciously,  with  the 
"  air  of  condescension  observable  in  foreigners/'  and 
with  an  uncertainty  which  was  not  unnatural  as  to 
whether  Ransom  were  or  were  not  a  servant. 

The  truth  was,  that  Ransom  was  entitled  to  all  the 
privileges  of  a  servant,  and  took  all  the  privileges  of 
a  master.  He  noticed  Mr.  Lonsdale's  hesitation  in- 
stantly, and  from  that  moment  was  master  of  the 
situation. 

"  Mornin',  sir,"  was  his  reply;  and  then  he  went  on 
in  a  curious  objurgation,  in  four  or  more  languages, 
addressed  to  the  half-breed  who  was  currying  Miss 
Inez's  horse. 

"  They  do  not  treat  horses  quite  as  we  do,"  said 
Lonsdale,  trying  to  be  condescending. 

"  Donno  what  you  do  to  'em,"  said  Ransom  civilly 
enough :  "  there 's  a  good  many  ways  to  spile  a  horse. 
These  here  Greasers  knows  most  of  'em." 

"  Will  you  come  into  the  stable,  and  look  at  my 
bay?"  said  Lonsdale  artfully.  "I  do  not  like  to 
trust  him  with  these  fellows." 

The  old  man  understood  that  this  was  a  bribe,  as 
distinctly  as  if  Lonsdale  had  offered  him  half  a  crown. 
But  no  man  is  beyond  the  reach  of  flattery,  —  as  the 
old  saw  says,  we  are  at  least  pleased  that  we  are 


268  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

worth  flattering,  —  and  he  accompanied  the  English- 
man into  the  other  wing  of  the  stable  buildings. 
Having  given  there  such  advice  as  seemed  good,  he 
loitered,  as  Lonsdale  did,  in  the  open  courtyard. 

"  Is  there  any  news  from  above  ?  "  said  the  English- 
man, pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  road  up  the 
river. 

Ransom  had  not  had  time  to  determine  on  his 
answer.  He  would  have  been  glad  to  know  what  the 
ladies  had  told  Lonsdale.  As  he  did  not  know,  he 
fell  back  on  his  policy  of  general  distrust. 

"  Them  redskins  was  back  yesterday.  All  got  so 
drunk  could  n't  tell  nothin'.  " 

"  I  wish  I  could  hear  from  Captain  Nolan,"  said 
Lonsdale,  —  not  as  if  he  were  asking  a  question. 

"  Need  n't  be  troubled  about  him,"  said  Ransom 
gloomily :  "  he  '11  take  care  of  himself." 

"  I  think  he  will,"  said  the  Englishman,  with  an 
easy  good-nature,  which  failed  him  as  little  in  meet- 
ing Ransom's  brevities,  as  when  he  met  little  Inez's 
impertinences,  —  "I  think  he  will.  But  I  would  be 
glad  to  know  there  was  no  fighting." 

Ransom  said  nothing. 

The  other  waited  a  moment,  and,  finding  that  he 
should  draw  nothing  unless  he  gave  something, 
risked  something,  and  said, — 

"  Captain  Nolan  has  no  better  friend  than  I  am.  I 
never  saw  him ;  but  I  know  he  is  an  honorable  gentle- 
man. And  I  do  not  want  to  see  him  and  his  country 
at  a  disadvantage  when  they  meet  these  idolaters  and 
barbarians." 

The  words  were  such  as  he  would   not,  perhaps, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  269 

have  used  in  other  circles.  But  they  were  not  badly 
chosen.  Certainly  they  were  not,  considering  that 
his  first  object  was  to  detach  the  old  man  from  the 
policy  of  reserve.  Ransom  himself  had  often  called 
the  priests  "  them  idolaters  "  in  his  talk  with  Miss 
Perry,  with  Inez,  and  even  with  the  White  Hawk,  — 
in  faithful  recollection  of  discourses  early  listened  to 
from  Puritan  pulpits.  But  not  in  Orleans,  least  of 
all  in  his  master's  house,  never  even  from  his  confreres 
in  Captain  Nolan's  troop  or  with  Harrod,  had  he  heard 
the  frank  expression  of  a  dislike  as  hearty  as  his  own. 

His  own  grim  smile  stole  over  his  face,  not  unob- 
served by  the  Englishman. 

"  The  truth  is,  Mr.  Ransom,"  said  Lonsdale,  follow- 
ing his  advantage,  "  there  are  a  plenty  of  reasons  why 
your  country  should  make  war  with  Spain,  and  why 
my  country  should  help  you  if  you  will  let  us.  But, 
when  that  war  comes,  let  it  be  a  war  of  armies  and 
generals  and  fleets  and  admirals.  Do  not  let  an  hon- 
orable gentleman  like  Mr.  Nolan  be  flung  away  in 
a  wilderness  where  nobody  can  help  him." 

He  had  said  enough  to  change  the  whole  current 
of  Ransom's  thought  and  plan.  Wisely  or  not, 
Ransom  took  into  his  favor  a  man  who  held  such 
views  as  to  the  Spanish  monarchy.  He  inwardly 
cemented  a  treaty  of  peace  with  Lonsdale,  based  on 
information  which  for  years  he  had  carried  in  the 
recesses  of  a  heart  which  never  betrayed  confidence. 

The  well-informed  American  reader  should  not 
need  to  be  told,  that  not  only  through  the  West,  but 
wherever  there  were  active  young  men  in  the  Ameri- 
can army  at  that  time,  the  hope  of  "  conquering  or 


270  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

rescuing"  Mexico  —  as  the  phrase  was — had  found 
its  way  as  among  the  probable  or  the  desirable  futures 
of  the  American  soldier.  When  Taylor  and  Scott 
entered  Mexico  in  triumph,  in  1846,  they  were  but 
making  those  visions  of  glory  which  had  excited 
Alexander  Hamilton  and  his  friends  nearly  fifty  years 
before.  A  curious  thing  it  is,  among  the  revenges 
and  revelations  of  history,  that  Hamilton's  great  rival, 
Burr,  blasted  his  own  fame  and  ruined  his  own  life, 
by  taking  up  the  very  plan  and  the  very  hope  which 
Hamilton  had  nursed  with  more  reason,  and,  indeed, 
with  more  hope  of  success,  a  few  years  before.  Silas 
Perry  himself  was  not  more  interested  in  the  plans  of 
Miranda,  the  South  American  adventurer,  than  was 
Alexander  Hamilton.  And  in  Miranda's  early 
schemes,  as  is  well  known,  he  relied  on  the  co-oper- 
ation, not  of  undisciplined  freebooters  from  the 
American  States,  but  of  the  American  army  under  the 
direction  of  the  American  President.  When,  under 
President  Adams,  that  army  was  greatly  enlarged,  — 
when  Washington  was  placed  at  its  head,  with  Hamil- 
ton for  the  first  in  command  under  him,  —  this  army 
was  not  to  act  in  ignoble  seaboard  defences.  It  was 
recruited  to  be  stationed  at  the  posts  which  have 
since  become  cities  on  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi ; 
and,  when  the  moment  came,  Hamilton  was  to  lead  it 
to  Orleans,  and,  if  God  so  ordered,  to  Mexico.  "  Only 
twenty  days'  march  to  San  Antonio,"  says  one  of 
those  early  letters,  anticipating  by  a  generation  the 
days  of  Houston  and  David  Crockett.1 

1  Wilkinson's  letters  to  Hamilton,  and  Hamilton's  in  reply  on  this 
subject,  are  still  extant  in  MS. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  271 

Of  course  all  these  plans  were  secrets  of  state. 
Not  too  much  of  them  is  now  to  be  found  in  the 
archives  of  Washington,  or  in  the  published  corre- 
spondence. The  War  Department  was,  very  unfortu- 
nately,—  or  shall  we  say,  very  conveniently?  — 
burned,  with  its  contents,  in  1800.  But  no  such 
secrets  could  exist,  no  such  plans  could  be  formed, 
without  correspondence  —  private,  indeed,  for  more 
than  success  hung  on  the  privacy  —  with  the  handful 
of  loyal  Americans  who  lived  in  Orleans.  They  were, 
to  the  last  drop  of  their  blood,  interested  to  see  such 
plans  succeed.  Their  co-operation,  so  far  as  it  could 
be  rendered  fairly,  must  be  relied  on  when  the 
moment  for  action  came.  Oliver  Pollock,  already 
spoken  of  in  these  pages,  who  had  supplied  powder 
to  Fort  Pitt  in  those  early  days  of  Washington's 
battles,  when  powder  was  like  gold-dust,  had,  before 
this  time,  left  Orleans  for  Baltimore.  There  he  was 
able  to  give  to  the  Government  such  advice  as  it 
needed.  When  such  an  agent  as  Wilkinson,  or  Free- 
man, or  Nolan,  was  despatched  to  Orleans,  he  con- 
fided what  he  dared  to  such  reliable  men  as  Silas 
Perry  or  Daniel  Clark. 

In  Silas  Perry's  household  there  were  many  secrets 
of  business  or  of  state ;  but  none  were  secrets  to  Seth 
Ransom.  True,  there  was  a  certain  affectation  main- 
tained as  to  what  he  knew  and  what  he  did  not  know. 
When  the  time  came  for  a  revelation,  Silas  Perry 
would  make  that  revelation,  for  form's  sake.  He 
would  say,  "  Ransom,  I  am  going  to  send  two  boxes 
to  Master  Roland,  by  the  '  Nancy,'  to  Bordeaux." 
But  then  he  knew  that  Ransom  knew  this  already ; 


272  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

and  Ransom  knew  that  he  knew  that  he  knew  it. 
There  were  occasions,  indeed,  when  Silas  Perry  was 
humiliated  in  the  family  counsels,  because  he  was 
obliged  to  ask  for  Ransom's  unoffered  assistance  in 
secret  matters.  There  was  a  celebrated  occasion, 
when  Mr.  Perry  had  lost  the  will  of  General  Morgan 
which  that  officer  had  intrusted  to  him  for  safe  and 
secret  deposit.  Silas  Perry  had  put  it  away,  without 
whispering  a  word  of  it  to  any  one,  not  even  to  his 
sister,  far  less  to  Inez;  and  he  had  forgotten  it 
through  and  through.  And  at  last,  years  after,  a 
messenger  came  in  haste  for  it,  General  Morgan  being 
ill,  and  wishing  to  change  it.  Mr.  Perry  came  from 
the  counting-house,  and  spent  hours  of  a  hot  day  in 
mad  search  for  it.  And  finally,  when  he  was  almost 
sick  from  disgrace  and  despair,  Eunice  called  Ransom 
to  her. 

The  old  man  entered,  displeased  and  disgusted. 

"  Ransom,  Mr.  Perry  has  lost  an  important  paper." 

"  Know  he  has.0 

"  It  is  the  will  of  General  Morgan,  and  the  general 
has  sent  for  it" 

"  Know  he  has." 

"  My  brother  cannot  find  it." 

"  Know  he  can't/' 

Eunice  even  —  whom  he  loved  —  was  obliged  to 
humiliate  herself. 

"  Do  you  remember  his  ever  speaking  to  you  of 
it?" 

"  Never  said  a  word  to  me." 

Eunice  had  to  prostrate  herself  further. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  find  it?" 


or,  Show  your  Passports  273 

"Could,  if  he  told  me  to." 

"  Ransom,  would  you  find  it?  he  is  very  much 
troubled  about  it." 

Ransom's  triumph  was  now  complete ;  and  he  led 
his  humbled  master  and  mistress  to  the  forgotten 
crypt  where  the  will  was  laid  away. 

To  such  a  man,  the  general  plan  of  Hamilton, 
Miranda,  the  English  Cabinet,  and  the  American 
Government  was  known  as  soon  as  it  had  been  con- 
fidentially discussed  between  General  Wilkinson  and 
Silas  Perry.  It  was  as  safe  with  him  as  with  the 
English  foreign  secretary;  far  safer,  as  has  proved 
since,  than  it  was  with  Wilkinson.  Ransom  knew 
now,  therefore,  that  within  four  years  past  the  co- 
operation of  an  English  fleet,  an  American  army,  and 
Spanish  insurgents  had  been  among  things  hoped  for 
by  the  most  intelligent  men  in  his  own  country.  And 
so  the  few  words  which  Lonsdale  spoke  now  led  him 
instantly  to  the  hasty  conviction  that  Lonsdale  was 
a  confidential  agent  in  a  renewal  of  the  same 
combination. 

I  am  afraid  this  discussion  of  politics  has  been  but 
rapidly  read  by  the  younger  part  of  those  friends 
who  are  kind  enough  to  hurry  over  these  lines.  Let 
me  only  say  to  them,  that,  if  they  will  take  the  pains 
to  read  it,  they  will  find  the  first  step  in  the  course 
which  this  country  marched  in  for  sixty  years.  That 
course  eventually  gave  to  it  Texas,  and  afterward 
California.  Among  other  things,  meanwhile,  it  gave 
to  it  Oregon,  and  all  east  of  Oregon.  And  when 
Kansas  and  Nebraska  came  to  be  settled,  came  the 
question,  "How?"  And  out  of  that  question  came 

18 


274  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

the  great  civil  war,  which  even  the  youngest  of  these 
young  readers  does  not  think  unimportant. 

And,  indeed,  there  needed  powers  not  less  than 
the  statesmanship  of  Adams  and  Rufus  King,  the 
chivalry  of  Hamilton,  and  the  fanaticism  of  Miranda, 
to  bring  about  a  marvel  like  that  of  peaceful  talk 
between  Seth  Ransom  and  an  Englishman. 

"  Do  not  let  an  honorable  gentleman  like  Mr. 
Nolan  be  flung  away  in  a  wilderness  where  no  one 
can  help  him."  These  were  Lonsdale's  words  of 
frankness. 

"  Said  so  myself.  Said  so  to  him,  and  said  so  to 
Mr.  Harrod.  Told  'em  both  it  was  all  dam  nonsense. 
Ef  the  Greasers  was  after  'em,  told  'em  to  get  out 
of  the  way,  and  wait  for  the  folks  up  above  to 
settle  'em.  Said  so  myself." 

"  Well !  "  said  Lonsdale  eagerly,  "  and  what  did 
they  say?  " 

"  They  said  they  was  ready  for  'em.  They  said 
they  was  nobody  at  Noches  that  dared  follow  where 
they  was  goin' :  they  was  n't  enough  men  there. 
An*  they  was  n't  when  we  was  there.  Mr.  Harrod 
an'  I  counted  the  horses,  we  did.  They  was  n't 
enough  when  we  was  there.  But,"  after  a  pause, 
"  they 's  been  more  men  sent  'em  since.  Hundred 
an'  sixty  men  went  from  this  place  over  here,  —  went 
two  months  ago  to  Noches."  Another  pause.  Ran- 
som looked  over  his  shoulder,  made  sure  there  were 
no  listeners,  and  dropped  his  voice :  "  Sent  word  of 
this  to  the  cap'n.  Got  his  message  back  yesterday. 
He  left  for  home  a  week  ago  yesterday." 

"  God  be  praised  !  "  said  Lonsdale  so  eagerly  that 


or,  Show  your  Passports  275 

even  Inez  would  have  had  some  trust  in  him.  "  If 
only  he  runs  the  lookout  at  Nacogdoches !  " 

"  He  passed  within  ten  miles  on  'em  while  they 
was  dancin'  and  figurin'  with  the  ladies,"  said  the  old 
man,  well  pleased.  "  Guess  he  won't  run  into  their 
mouths  this  time." 

"  If  he  gets  safe  home,"  said  the  other,  "  he  will 
have  chances  enough  to  come  over  here,  with  an 
army  behind  him." 

"  Mebbe,"  was  the  sententious  reply.  But  Ransom 
doubted  already  whether  he  had  not  gone  too  far  in 
his  relations  to  an  officer  of  the  English  crown,  as  he 
chose  to  suppose  Lonsdale  to  be ;  and  his  confidences 
for  this  day  were  over. 

Was  he  wise,  indeed,  in  trusting  "  The  Man  I 
Hate,"  so  far  as  he  had  done? 

We  shall  see  —  what  we  shall  see. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

BATTLE 

"  The  cowards  would  have  fled,  but  that  they  knew 
Themselves  so  many,  and  their  foes  so  few." 

Cymon  and  Iphigenia. 

THE  question  whether  Spain  and  America  should 
meet  in  battle  in  the  forests  of  Texas  was,  at  that 
moment,  already  decided,  although  Ransom  and  Lons- 
dale did  not  know  it.  The  descendants  of  Raleigh 
and  Sidney  and  Drake  and  Hawkins,  of  Amyas 
Leigh  and  Bertram  and  Robinson  Crusoe  and  their 


2j6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

countrymen,  were  to  take  up  the  gage  of  battle  which 
had  lain  forgotten  so  long,  and  were  to  meet  in  fight 
the  descendants  of  Alva  and  Cortez  and  Pizarro,  and 
De  Soto  and  Philip  the  Second. 

And  for  fifty  years  that  battle  was  to  go  on ;  not 
on  the  seas,  as  in  Drake's  days  and  Howard's,  but 
on  the  land,  in  sight  of  the  very  palaces  Cortez 
had  wondered  at,  and  in  the  very  deserts  in  which 
De  Soto  had  wandered. 

And,  when  the  glove  was  first  picked  up,  poor 
Philip  Nolan,  alas !  was  the  brave  knight  who  stood 
for  the  faith  and  for  the  star  of  Sidney  and  Howard. 

Of  the  tragedy  which  followed,  in  the  twenty-four 
hours  since  we  saw  him,  history  has  left  us  two  ac- 
counts, —  one,  the  journal  of  Muzquiz,  the  officer 
whom  we  saw  kissing  his  hand  at  Chihuahua;  and 
the  other,  the  tale  of  Ellis  Bean,  the  youngest  of 
Nolan's  companions.  They  differ  in  detail,  as  is  of 
course ;  but,  as  to  the  general  history  of  that  cruel 
day,  we  know  the  story,  and  we  know  it  only  too 
well. 

The  custom  of  Nolan's  camp  was  always  that  a  third 
of  the  little  party  should  keep  the  night-watch  while 
two-thirds  slept.  It  had  happened,  naturally  enough, 
that  the  five  Spaniards  —  as  the  Mexicans  of  the 
party  were  always  called,  when  they  were  not  called 
"  Greasers  "  —  made  one  of  the  three  watches.  And, 
as  destiny  ordered,  these  five  were  on  duty  on  the 
night  after  Crooked  Feather  left  with  his  message. 
"  As  destiny  ordered,"  one  says :  had  they  not  been 
there,  Philip  Nolan  perhaps  would  never  have  been  a 
martyr,  and  these  words  had  never  been  written. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  277 

Destiny,  carelessness,  or  treachery,  that  night  put 
these  five  men  on  guard.  It  was  the  2ist  of  March; 
and  in  that  climate,  to  such  men  as  these  young 
fellows,  there  was  little  hardship  in  such  beds  as  they 
had  provided.  They  slept,  and  their  leader  slept,  as 
hunters  sleep  after  one  day  of  work,  and  before  an- 
other of  enterprise.  He  had  not  confided  to  any 
of  them  but  Blackburn  the  plan  for  an  immediate 
return. 

Of  a  sudden  the  trampling  of  horses  roused  him. 
It  was  dark;  still  he  judged  it  past  midnight  The 
fear  of  a  stampede,  or  of  Indian  thieves,  was  always 
present,  and  Nolan  was  on  his  feet.  He  hailed  the 
guard. 

No  answer  ! 

He  left  the  little  shed  in  which  they  were  sleeping. 
The  guard  were  gone. 

"  Blackburn  !  Bean !  Caesar  !  The  Greasers  are 
gone!  Call  all  the  men  !  " 

In  the  darkness  the  men  gathered. 

From  their  wall  of  logs  they  peered  out  into  the 
forest.  It  was  not  so  dark  but  they  could  see  here  a 
figure  passing  and  there.  Nolan  and  the  others 
hailed  in  Spanish,  and  in  various  Indian  tongues ;  but 
they  got  no  answers. 

"Who  will  come  to  the  corral  with  me?"  cried 
their  fearless  leader. 

Half  a  dozen  men  volunteered. 

They  crossed  to  the  corral  to  find  that  the  horses 
were  safe.  It  was  no  stampeding  party.  Philip 
Nolan  knew  at  that  instant  that  he  had  not  Indians  to 
fight  against,  but  the  forces  of  the  Most  Catholic 


278  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

King  of  Spain ;  one  hundred  and  sixty  of  them  too, 
if  Miss  Eunice  had  been  right  in  her  counting. 

Of  this  he  said  nothing  to  his  men.  He  bade  each 
man  charge  his  rifle ;  but  no  man  was  to  fire  till  he 
gave  the  word.  He  looked  for  his  own  double- 
barreled  fowling-piece.  It  was  gone.  One  of  the 
"  Greasers  "  had  stolen  it,  as  he  deserted.1 

This  act  made  their  bad  faith  the  more  certain,  and 
revealed  to  the  men,  what  Nolan  never  doubted,  the 
character  of  their  enemies.  He  bade  them  keep  well 
covered  by  the  logs,  and  so  they  waited  for  the  gray 
of  the  morning. 

Nor  did  they  wait  long.  A  party  of  the  besiegers 
approached.  Nolan  showed  himself  fearlessly. 

"  Take  care  how  you  come  nearer,"  he  cried. 
"  One  or  other  of  us  will  die  if  you  do." 

They  halted  like  children,  as  they  were  bidden. 

"Who  will  come  with  me  this  time?"  said  he; 
and  again  the  volunteers  were  all  that  he  could  ask. 

"  No,  not  with  rifles !  Lay  down  your  rifles." 
And  he  stepped  forth  unarmed  from  the  little  en- 
closure ;  and  they,  without  gun  or  pistol,  followed. 

Again  Nolan  hailed  the  enemy  in  Spanish. 

"  Do  not  come  near,  for  one  or  other  of  us  will  be 
killed  if  you  do."  On  this  there  was  a  consultation 
among  the  enemy;  and,  with  a  white  flag,  an  Irish- 
man whose  name  was  Barr  came  near  enough  to  talk 
with  Nolan  in  English.  He  said  his  commander  was 
a  lieutenant  named  Muzquiz,  and  he  justified  Eunice's 
count  of  a  hundred  and  sixty  men.  Unless  Nolan 

i  The  piece  was  afterward  seen  by  Lieutenant  Pike ;  and  Muzquiz, 
the  Spaniard,  describes  the  theft. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  279 

had  more  men  than  he  seemed  to  have,  fight  was 
hopeless,  Barr  said. 

"  We  shall  see  that,"  said  Nolan.  "  What  terms  do 
they  offer  us?" 

Barr  was  not  authorized  to  offer  any  terms.  The 
orders  of  Muzquiz  were  to  arrest  them,  and  send 
them  prisoners  to  Coahuila. 

"  Arrest  us  !  "  said  Nolan,  "  when  you  know  I  have 
your  governor's  permit  to  collect  these  horses  for 
your  own  army  in  Louisiana,  and  to  bring  in  goods, 
if  I  choose,  to  pay  the  Indians  for  them;  do  you 
mean  to  arrest  me?" 

Barr  said  he  could  say  nothing  of  that.  Muzquiz 
had  come  to  arrest  them,  and  he  expected  them  to 
surrender  "  in  the  name  of  the  king." 

Nolan  turned  to  his  men ;  but  he  needed  not  to 
consult  them.  They  knew  what  Spanish  courtesy  to 
prisoners  was  too  well.  "  Let  them  fight  if  they 
choose,"  was  the  sentiment  of  one  and  all.  Barr 
went  back  to  his  master;  and  Nolan  and  his  com- 
panions to  the  little  log  enclosure,  which  was  yester- 
day only  the  poorest  horse-pen,  and  was  to-day  a  fort 
beleaguered  and  defended. 

Who  knows  what,  even  with  such  odds,  the  end 
might  have  been !  These  gallant  Spanish  troopers, 
ten  to  one,  did  not  dare  risk  themselves  too  near. 
But,  not  ten  minutes  after  the  sharp-shooting  began, 
Nolan  exposed  himself  too  fearlessly,  was  struck  by 
a  ball  in  the  head,  and  fell  dead,  without  a  word. 

Muzquiz  had  brought  with  him  a  little  swivel,  on 
the  back  of  a  mule.  He  did  not  dare  risk  his  men 
before  the  Kentucky  and  Mississippi  sharp-shooters. 


280  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

But  it  was  easy  fighting,  to  load  this  little  cannon 
with  grape-shot,  and  fire  it  pell-mell  upon  the  logs. 
If  one  of  his  men  exposed  himself,  a  warning  rifle- 
shot showed  that  some  one  was  alive  within.  But  the 
Spaniards  kept  their  distance  bravely,  and  loaded  and 
fired  the  swivel  behind  the  shelter  which  the  careful 
Muzquiz  had  prepared. 

Within  the  pen  there  were  various  counsels.  Ellis 
Bean,  the  youngest  of  the  party,  probably  offered  the 
best ;  which  was,  that  at  the  moment  the  swivel  was 
next  discharged  they  should  dash  upon  it  and  take  it, 
trusting  to  the  Spaniards'  unwillingness  to  die  first. 
"  It  is  at  most  but  death,"  said  Bean ;  "  and  we  may 
as  well  die  so  as  in  their  mines."  And  two  or  three 
of  the  boldest  of  them  held  with  Bean.  But  the  more 
cautious  men  said  that  this  was  madness.  And  so, 
after  four  hours  of  this  aiming  into  the  thicket  from 
behind  the  logs,  they  loosened  the  logs  on  the  side 
opposite  the  swivel,  and  then  took  the  opportunity  of 
the  next  discharge  to  escape  from  their  fortress  into 
the  woods,  bearing  with  them  two  wounded  men,  but 
leaving  the  body  of  their  brave  commander. 

There  were  but  nine  well  men  left,  after  the  deser- 
tion, and  these  two  wounded  fellows.  Each  man 
filled  his  powder-horn ;  and  to  old  Caesar,  who  had  no 
gun,  was  given  the  remaining  stock  of  powder  to 
carry.  For  a  few  minutes  their  retreat  was  not 
noticed.  They  got  a  little  the  start  of  the  swivel- 
firers.  But  the  silence  of  the  pen-walls  told  a  story ; 
and  the  Spaniards  soon  mustered  courage  to  attack 
an  empty  fortress.  Nothing  there  but  Phil  Nolan's 
body,  and  the  little  stores  of  the  encampment ! 


or,  Show  your  Passports  281 

Warily  the  host  followed.  Mounted  men  as  they 
were,  they  of  course  soon  overtook  these  footmen. 
But  they  kept  a  prudent  distance  still.  No  man 
wanted  to  be  the  first  shot;  and  the  whir  of  an  occa- 
sional bullet  would  remind  the  more  adventurous  that 
it  was  better  to  be  cautious.  At  last,  however,  they 
made  a  prize.  Poor  Caesar,  with  his  heavy  load,  had 
lagged ;  and,  as  he  had  no  gun,  a  brave  trooper 
pounced  upon  him.  All  the  powder  of  the  pursued 
troop  was  thus  in  the  hands  of  the  pursuers. 

The  next  victory,  announced  by  a  cheer  of  Spanish 
rapture,  was  the  surrender  of  one  of  the  wounded 
men.  He  could  not  keep  up  with  his  friends,  and  he 
would  not  delay  them.  He  was  seen  waving  a  white 
rag,  and  was  surrounded  by  the  advance  with  a  shout 
of  victory. 

So  passed  six  hours  of  pursuit  and  retreat.  Muz- 
quiz  sent  a  body  in  advance,  to  command,  with  their 
carbines,  both  sides  of  the  trail  he  knew  his  enemy 
would  take.  But  so  cautious  was  the  Spanish  fire, 
that  the  fortunate  fellows  passed  through  this  defile 
without  losing  a  man.  Well  for  them  that  the  Span- 
iards believed  so  religiously  in  the  distance  to  which 
the  Kentucky  rifle  would  carry  lead !  Six  hours  of 
pursuit  and  retreat!  At  last  Fero,  who  was  more 
like  a  commander  than  any  others  in  the  little  com- 
pany, and  Blackburn  the  Quaker,  called  a  halt. 
They  counted  their  forces.  All  here,  but  he  who 
had  insisted  on  surrendering  himself,  —  save,  alas  ! 
Caesar. 

Every  man's  horn  was  nearly  empty.  Unless 
Caesar  could  be  found  —  all  was  lost! 


282  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

No.     He  cannot  be  found ! 

They  are  brave  fellows ;  but  there  is  nothing  for 
it,  but  to  hoist  a  white  flag,  which  Muzquiz  wel- 
comed gladly. 

He  knew  now  what  he  could  do,  and  what  he  could 
not  do.  He  knew  he  could  not  make  Spanish  troop- 
ers with  their  carbines  stand  the  sure  fire  of  the  Ken- 
tucky rifle.  He  knew  Nolan  was  dead.  The  danger 
of  the  expedition  was  at  an  end.  His  own  advance- 
ment was  sure.  In  any  event,  it  was  victory. 

Muzquiz  therefore  sent  in  Barr  the  Irishman  again, 
and  this  time  bade  him  offer  terms.  The  little  party 
was  to  return  to  Natchitoches,  and  never  come  into 
Texas  any  more.  In  particular  they  were  to  prom- 
ise to  make  no  establishment  with  the  Indians. 

To  this  they  replied  that  he  might  have  saved 
himself  trouble.  This  was  just  what  he  wanted 
to  do.  But  they  added  that  they  should  never 
give  up  their  arms. 

They  were  assured  that  this  was  not  demanded: 
only  they  must  agree  to  be  escorted  back  to  Natchi- 
toches. 

To  this  they  agreed,  if  they  might  go  back  and 
bury  Nolan.  Muzquiz  consented  to  this.  The  party 
marched  back  together,  and  buried  him.  But  no 
man  knows  his  resting-place.  Nolan's  River,  a  little 
branch  of  the  Brasses,  is  the  only  monument  of  his 
fame. 

The  whole  party  then  turned  eastward,  and 
marched  good-naturedly  enough  together  to  Nacog- 
doches.  Once  and  again  the  Spaniards  had  to  ac- 
cept of  the  superior  skill  of  the  Americans  in 


or,  Show  your  Passports  283 

building  rafts,  or  constructing  other  methods  for 
crossing  the  swollen  streams.  So  they  arrived  at 
the  little  garrison.  Which  were  the  conquerors? 

It  would  have  been  hard  to  tell,  until  the  morning 
after  their  arrival,  when  the  Americans  were  dis- 
armed, man  by  man,  and  handcuffed  as  criminals. 

From  that  moment  to  this  moment  the  words 
"  Spanish  honor "  have  meant  in  Texas  "  a  snare 
and  a  lie." 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

AT  SAN  ANTONIO 

"  Of  all  their  falsehood,  more  could  I  recount, 
But  now  the  bright  sun  'ginneth  to  dismount; 
And,  for  the  dewy  night  now  doth  draw  nigh, 
I  hold  it  best  for  us  home  to  hie." 

SHEPHERD'S  CALENDAR. 

APRIL  crept  by  at  San  Antonio;  but  it  only  crept 
The  easy  winter-life,  which  was  not  wintry,  passed 
into  the  life  of  what  ought  to  have  been  a  lovely 
spring-time;  for  not  at  Nice  or  Genoa,  better 
known,  alas,  to  the  average  American  reader  than 
San  Antonio,  can  spring  be  more  lovely  than  it 
is  there.  But  it  was  not  lovely.  Major  Barelo 
assured  Eunice  on  his  honor  that  he  had  no  news 
from  Muzquiz's  force  above.  He  began  to  assure 
her  that,  if  they  had  met  the  hunters,  he  certainly 
should  have  heard  of  it  before  this.  Miss  Perry 
tried  to  believe  this,  and  she  tried  to  make  Inez 
believe  it  But  still  the  days  hung  heavy.  The 


284  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

little  entertainments  of  the  garrison  seemed  heart- 
less and  dull.  What  was  a  game  at  prison-bounds, 
or  a  costume-ball,  or  a  play  of  Cervantes,  or  a  picnic 
at  the  springs,  when  people  did  not  know  whether 
dear  friends  were  alive  or  dead,  or  in  lifelong  cap- 
tivity? How  could  one  hunt  for  prairie-flowers,  and 
analyze  them  and  press  them,  when  one  remembered 
the  ride  across  the  prairies,  and  wondered  where 
they  were  who  shared  it? 

Poor  Inez  had  her  own  cause  of  anxiety,  which 
burned  all  the  more  hotly  in  her  poor  little  heart 
because  she  was  too  proud  to  speak  of  it,  even 
to  Aunt  Eunice.  Where  was  Will  Harrod?  If  he 
had  joined  Captain  Phil  before  Crooked  Feather 
did,  why  had  not  Crooked  Feather  brought  one 
word,  or  message,  or  token?  If  he  had  not  joined 
Captain  Phil?  —  that  question  was  even  worse.  Oh, 
the  whole  thing  was  so  hollow !  That  one  should 
eat  and  drink  and  sleep,  should  go  to  balls  and 
tertulias  and  reading-parties ;  that  Lieutenant  Gon- 
zales  should  lift  one  into  the  saddle,  and  talk  bad 
English  with  one  for  the  hours  of  a  ride ;  that  Mr. 
Lonsdale  should  hang  round  all  the  evening,  and 
talk  of  everything  but  what  he  was  thinking  of,  and 
she  was  thinking  of,  and  Aunt  Eunice  was  thinking 
of,  —  it  was  all  a  horrid  lie,  and  it  was  terrible. 

White  Hawk  was  her  only  comfort.  Dear  child ! 
she  knew  she  was  her  only  comfort;  and,  with  ex- 
quisite instincts,  she  took  upon  her  the  duties  of 
a  comforter  without  once  affecting  that  she  took 
them.  But  she  could  make  Inez  forget  herself,  and 
she  did.  She  would  spin  out  the  pretty  lessons 


or,  Show  your  Passports  285 

in  writing,  on  which  Inez  had  begun  with  her. 
She  would  lead  her  to  talk  about  the  spelling  tasks 
and  the  reading  lesson,  which  in  Inez's  new-fledged 
dignity  as  a  tutor  she  was  giving.  Then  she  would 
play  teacher  in  her  turn.  They  found  porcupine's 
quills ;  and  a  lovely  mess  they  made  of  things  in  dyeing 
them  with  such  decoctions  as  White  Hawk  invented. 
They  embroidered  slippers  for  Eunice,  for  themselves, 
for  Major  Barelo,  and  for  dear  Aunt  Dolores ;  even 
for  old  Ransom,  they  embroidered  slippers  as  the 
winter  and  spring  went  by.  Inez  was  becoming 
a  proficient  in  other  forms  of  wood-craft.  Ah,  me ! 
if  Will  Harrod  had  come  back,  she  could  have 
talked  to  him,  before  the  spring  went  by,  in  pan- 
tomime quite  as  expressive  as  his  own,  and  far 
more  graceful. 

But  then,  just  when  they  came  back  from  a  tramp 
on  the  beautiful  river-side,  with  old  Ransom  and  one 
and  another  attendant,  laden  down  with  their  roots 
and  barks  and  berries,  and  other  stuff,  —  as  the  old 
man  called  it,  —  the  first  sight  of  the  garrison 
brought  back  the  old  terrible  anxiety.  Inez  would 
rush  to  Aunt  Dolores  or  to  Aunt  Eunice,  and  say, 
"Is  there  any  news?"  as  if  this  happy  valley  was 
no  happy  valley  at  all,  and  as  if  she  could  not 
forget  how  far  parted  she  was  from  the  world. 

Old  Ransom  took  on  himself  to  school  her,  in  his 
fashion,  more  than  her  aunt  thought  wisest. 

"  Een,"  he  said  to  her  one  day  as  they  rode,  "  ye 
mus'  n'  take  on  so  much  as  ye  do  for  the  cap'n.  The 
cap'n  's  all  right,  he  is.  He  told  me  heself  he  should 
be  back  at  the  river  'fore  March  was  ever.  Them 


286  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

mustangs  ain't  good  for  nothin'  ef  you  sells  'em  after 
May,  'n'  the  cap'n  knew  that's  well  as  I  did.  'N'  he 
says,  says  he,  '  Ransom/  says  he,  '  I  shall  be  in 
Natchez  first  week  in  April.  I  shall  send  two  hun- 
dred on  'em  down  the  river  to  Orleans  in  flats/  says 
he ;  '  'n'  I  shall  go  across  to  the  Cumberland  River, 
through  the  Creek  country,  with  the  others/  That's 
what  he  says  to  me.  He  knows  Bowles,  the  Injen 
chief — always  did  know  lots  of  the  redskins.  'N'  he 
says  to  me,  '  I  shall  go  to  the  Cumberland  River  to 
be  there  'fore  April 's  over,  time  for  the  spring 
ploughing.'  Ye  mus'  n't  take  on  so,  Een." 

Every  word  of  this  was  a  lie ;  but  it  was  a  lie  in- 
vented with  so  kind  an  object,  and,  indeed,  so  well 
invented,  that  the  recording  angel  undoubtedly 
dropped  a  tear  of  compassion  and  regret  com- 
mingled, as  he  wrote  it  down. 

Poor  Inez  tried  to  believe  it  true. 

"  You  never  saw  Crooked  Feather  again,  Ransom, 
did  you  ?" 

Ransom  paused.  He  doubted  for  a  moment 
whether  he  would  not  boldly  create  a  second  con- 
versation with  Crooked  Feather,  in  which  that  chief 
should  describe  an  interview  with  William  Harrod. 
But  no  !  this  was  too  much.  For  the  old  man  loved 
the  truth  in  itself,  and  did  not  ever  intend  to  swerve 
from  it.  What  he  had  said  about  Nolan  and  the 
horses,  he  believed  to  be  the  absolute  truth  of  things. 
He  had  put  it  in  the  form  of  a  conversation  with 
Nolan,  because  he  could  thus  most  distinctly  make 
Inez  apprehend  it,  baby  as  she  was  in  his  estimation 
still.  But,  as  to  Harrod,  he  believed  as  implicitly 


or,  Show  your  Passports  287 

that  he  had  been  scalped  within  the  week  after  he 
left  them.  Believing  that,  he  had  no  romance  to 
invent  which  should  restore  him  to  the  world. 

After  a  pause  —  not  infrequent  in  his  colloquies  — 
he  assumed  a  more  didactic  tone.  It  would,  at 
another  time,  have  delighted  Inez ;  but  now  the 
weight  at  her  heart  was  too  heavy.  Still  she  beck- 
oned the  White  Hawk  to  come  up  and  ride  by  their 
side ;  and  the  old  man  went  on  with  his  lecture. 

"  I  never  see  him,  Een,  and  I  never  want  to.  Nig- 
gers is  bad ;  French  folks  is  bad ;  English  is  wus ; 
and  Spanish  is  wus  then  them,  by  a  long  sight;  but 
redskins  is  the  wust  on  'em  all.  They 's  lazy,  that 's 
one  thing ;  so  is  niggers.  They 's  fools,  that 's  one 
thing ;  so  is  the  mounseers.  They 's  proud  as  the 
Devil,  that's  one  thing;  so  is  the  Englishmen. 
They  '11  lie  's  fast  's  they  can  talk :  so  '11  the  Span- 
iards ;  'n'  they  '11  cheat  and  steal,  and  pretend  they 
can't  understand  nothin'  you  say  all  the  time.  They  's 
a  bad  set.  I  gin  your  old  chief  (Crooked  Feather  he 
said  his  name  was,  but  he  lied;  it  wasn't  —  didn't 
have  no  name)  —  I  gin  him  his  sugar,  'n'  I  turned 
him  out  of  the  warehouse,  'n'  I  told  him  ef  I  ever  see 
him  ag'in,  I  'd  thrash  him  within  an  inch  of  his  life. 
He  pertended  he  did  n't  know  nothin',  'n'  that  he 
did  n't  know  what  I  meant.  But  he  knew  enough  to 
make  tracks,  'n'  I  hain't  ever  seen  him  sence,  'n'  I 
hain't  wanted  to,  neyther.  Redskins  is  fools  'n'  liars 
'n'  thieves  'n'  lazy,  'n'  ain't  no  good  anyway." 

Ma-ry  understood  enough  of  this  eulogy  on  her 
old  masters  to  laugh  at  it  thoroughly;  indeed  she 
sympathized,  and  said  to  Inez,  — 


288  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"  Ma-ry  knows,  yes.  Ransom  knows,  yes.  Crooked 
Feather  bad,  lazy,  steal.  O  Inez,  Inez!  darling  dear, 
all  bad,  all  lie,  all  steal ;  "  and  she  flung  down  her 
reins  in  a  wild  way,  and  just  rested  herself  fearlessly 
on  the  other's  shoulder,  and  kissed  her  once  and 
again,  as  if  to  bless  her  that  she  had  taken  her  from 
her  old  taskmasters ;  then  she  took  the  reins  again, 
and  made  her  pony  fly  like  the  wind  along  the  road, 
and  return  to  the  party,  as  if  she  must  do  something 
vehement  to  express  her  sense  of  her  escape  from 
such  captivity. 

Thus  Ransom  tried  —  and  tried  not  unsuccessfully 
—  to  turn  Inez's  thoughts  for  a  moment  from  questions 
of  Nolan  and  Harrod. 

But  not  for  a  long  respite.  The  moment  they 
passed  the  gate  of  the  little  wall,  which  in  those  days, 
after  a  fashion,  bounded  the  garrison,  it  was  evident 
that  something  had  transpired.  The  lazy  sentinel 
himself  stood  at  his  post  with  more  of  a  military  air. 
On  the  military  plaza  were  groups  of  men  together, 
in  the  wild  gesticulation  of  Spanish  talk,  where 
usually  at  this  hour  no  one  would  be  seen.  Certain 
that  some  news  had  come,  Inez  pushed  her  horse,  and 
Ransom,  in  his  respectful  following,  kept  close  behind 
her.  She  would  not  ask  a  question  of  the  Spanish 
officers  whom  they  dashed  by ;  but  she  fancied  that 
in  their  salute  there  was  an  air  of  gravity  which  she 
had  certainly  never  seen  before,  —  a  gravity  which  the 
sight  of  two  smiling,  pretty  girls,  dashing  by  at  a  fast 
canter,  certainly  would  not  in  itself  have  excited. 

Arrived  in  the  courtyard,  the  excited  girl  swung 
herself  into  Ransom's  arms,  gathered  up  her  dress, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  289 

and  rushed  into  her  aunt's  room.  The  White  Hawk 
needed  no  help,  but  left  her  pony  as  quickly,  and 
followed  Inez.  Eunice  was  not  there  at  the  moment ; 
but,  just  as  Inez  had  determined  to  go  in  search 
of  her,  her  aunt  appeared  at  the  door.  Oh,  how 
wretchedly  sad  in  every  line  of  her  face,  and  in  the 
eyes  which  looked  so  resolutely  on  poor  Inez  !  The 
news  had  come,  and  it  was  bad  news ! 

Eunice  gave  one  hand  to  each,  and  led  them  both 
into  the  inner  room.  She  shut  the  door.  She  made 
Inez  lie  down.  Oh,  how  still  she  was  !  and  how  still 
they  were ! 

She  sat  by  the  girl's  side.  She  held  her  hand. 
She  even  stroked  her  forehead  with  the  other,  before 
she  could  speak.  At  last,  — 

"  O  my  darling,  my  dearest !  it  is  all  too  true  !  It 
is  all  over." 

Inez  was  on  her  elbow,  looking  straight  into  her 
eyes. 

"  Inez,  my  darling,  they  met;  they  found  him  only 
the  day  after  he  wrote  to  us.  They  fought  him  — 
the  wretches  —  ten  to  his  one.  They  killed  him. 
They  have  taken  all  the  others  prisoners ;  and  they 
are  all  to  go  to  the  mines,  to  slave  there  till  the 
king  shall  send  word  to  have  them  killed.  O  my 
darling,  my  child  !  " 

Inez  looked  her  still  in  the  face. 

"Who  else  is  killed?  Tell  me  all,  dear  aunt,  tell 
me  all !  " 

"  My  darling,  O  my  darling !  I  cannot  hear  that 
anybody  but  Nolan  was  killed.  They  killed  him  at 
their  first  fire,  and  he  never  spoke  again.  Dear, 

19 


290  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

dear  fellow !  oh,  what  will  his  little  wife  say  or 
do?" 

It  was  the  first  time  that  in  words  Eunice  had  ever 
told  Inez  that  Nolan  had  married  the  pretty  Fanny 
Lintot,  whose  picture  Inez  had  seen.  In  truth,  he 
had  married  her  just  before  he  left  Natchez. 

"  They  say  they  took  our  people  prisoners  on 
terms  of  unconditional  surrender.  Inez,  they  say 
what  is  not  true.  Will  Harrod,  and  all  those  men 
with  Nolan,  would  have  died  before  they  would  have 
been  marched  to  the  mines.  But,  my  darling,  I  have 
told  you  all  I  know." 

"  There  is  no  word  from — from  —  from  Captain 
Harrod?"  asked  Inez,  finding  it  hard  to  speak  his 
name  even  now. 

"  Oh !  no  word  for  us  from  anybody.  There  is 
only  a  bragging  despatch  with  '  God  preserve  Your 
Excellency  many  years/  from  this  coward  of  a 
Muzquiz,  —  this  man  who  takes  an  army  to  hunt  a 
soldier.  Why,  I  should  have  thought  he  had  met 
Bonaparte  hand  to  hand ! 

"  The  Major  sent  for  me.  He  is  so  kind !  And 
dear  Dolores  —  oh,  she  is  lovely.  He  told  me  all 
he  knew.  He  promised  to  tell  me  all.  Perhaps 
the  prisoners  will  come  this  way:  then  we  shall 
know. 

"  But  what  a  wretch  I  am  !  I  have  been  praying 
and  hoping  so  that  I  might  break  it  to  you  gently; 
and  I  have  only  poured  out  my  whole  story  without 
one  thought.  Dear,  dear  Inez,  forgive  me !  " 

She  was  beside  herself  with  excitement.  In  truth, 
of  the  two,  Inez  seemed  more  calm.  But  she  was, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  291 

oh,  so  deadly  pale !  She  tried  to  speak.  No  !  she 
could  not  say  a  word.  She  opened  her  lips,  but  no 
sound  would  come.  Nay,  even  the  tears  would  not 
come.  She  looked  up  —  she  looked  around.  She 
saw  dear  Ma-ry,  her  eyes  flooded  with  tears,  her 
whole  eager  face  alive  with  her  sorrow  and  her 
sympathy.  Inez  flung  herself  into  her  arms;  and 
the  tears  flowed  as  she  sobbed  and  sobbed  and  sobbed 
upon  her  shoulder. 

Eunice  told  Inez  that  Major  Barelo  had  told  her 
all.  She  thought  he  had.  The  loyal  Spanish  gen- 
tleman had  kept  his  secret  well. 

He  had  not  told  her  all.  The  bragging  despatch 
from  Muzquiz  had  been  accompanied  with  a  little 
parcel.  This  parcel  contained  the  ears  of  Philip 
Nolan  !  The  chivalrous  Muzquiz,  the  representative 
of  the  Most  Catholic  King,  had  cut  off  the  ears  of 
the  dead  hero,  to  send  them  in  token  of  victory  to 
the  governor ! 

So  low  had  sunk  the  chivalry  which  in  the  days  of 
Lobeira  gave  law  to  the  courtesy  of  the  world ! 

Of  this  accompaniment  to  the  despatch,  Barelo  had 
said  nothing  to  Eunice  Perry;  nor  did  she  know  it 
till  she  died. 

We  know  it  from  the  despatch  in  which  the  Cas- 
tilian  chief  announces  it. 


292  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

"i  MUST  GO  HOME" 

"  Now  with  a  general  peace  the  world  was  blest ; 
While  ours,  a  world  divided  from  the  rest, 
A  dreadful  quiet  felt,  and,  worser  far 
Than  arms,  a  sullen  interval  of  war : 
Thus  when  black  clouds  draw  down  the  laboring  skies, 
Ere  yet  abroad  the  winged  thunder  flies, 
A  horrid  stillness  first  invades  the  ear, 
And  in  that  silence  we  the  tempest  fear." 

Astrcea  Redux. 

POOR  Inez  !     Poor  Eunice ! 

They  kept  their  grief  to  themselves  as  best  they 
could.  But  every  one  in  the  garrison  circle  knew 
there  was  a  grief  to  keep,  though  no  one,  not  even 
Dona  Maria,  suspected  the  whole  of  it,  and  no  one 
could  quite  account  for  the  depth  of  the  ladies' 
interest  in  the  freebooters.  Eunice  said  boldly  that 
it  would  prove  to  be  all  a  mistake,  which  De  Nava 
and  Salcedo  would  surely  regret.  That  Mr.  Nolan 
was  an  accomplished  gentleman,  they  all  knew,  for 
he  had  visited  Antonio  again  and  again:  he  had 
danced  in  their  parties,  and  dined  at  their  tables. 
She  said  he  was  Gayoso's  friend,  and  Casa  Calvo's 
friend,  and  that  they  were  not  the  men  she  took  them 
for,  if  they  did  not  resent  such  interference  from 
another  province.  She  said  boldly,  that  there  would 
have  to  be  some  public  statement  now,  whether  the 
King  of  Spain  meant  to  protect  his  subjects  in 
Louisiana  against  other  subjects  in  Mexico.  So  far 


or,  Show  your  Passports  293 

Eunice  carried  talk  with  a  high  spirit,  because  she 
would  gladly  give  the  impression,  in  the  garrison 
circle,  that  she  and  Inez  were  wounded  with  a  sense 
of  what  may  be  called  provincial  pride.  The  inhos- 
pitality  exercised  toward  Nolan  to-day  might  be 
exercised  toward  them  to-morrow. 

But,  while  Eunice  Perry  took  this  high  tone  in  the 
long  morning  talks  of  the  ladies,  her  own  heart  was 
sick  with  the  secret  her  brother  had  confided  to  her. 
She  knew  that  Orleans  and  Louisiana  were  Spanish 
only  in  name.  Did  not  De  Nava  and  Salcedo  know 
this  also?  Was  not  this  bold  dash  against  Nolan  the 
first  declaration  of  the  indifference  of  Spanish  com-  ' 
manders  to  all  directions  from  Louisiana,  now  Loui- 
siana was  French  again?  And,  if  it  were  so,  ought 
not  Eunice  Perry  to  be  looking  toward  getting  her 
white  doves  to  their  own  shelter  again  as  soon  as 
might  be? 

She  determined,  not  unwisely,  to  confide  to  Ran- 
som the  great  secret  of  state  which  her  brother  had 
intrusted  to  her.  In  doing  this,  she  knew  she  would 
not  displease  Silas  Perry,  who  would  have  told  Ran- 
som within  a  minute  after  he  had  heard  it,  for  the 
mere  convenience  of  not  having  to  perplex  himself 
by  hiding  from  his  right  hand  what  affected  both 
hands  every  moment. 

Eunice  was  not  displeased  that  for  once  she  could 
take  the  old  man  by  surprise.  She  chose,  as  she 
was  wont  to  do  for  private  conferences,  a  chance 
when  they  were  riding;  for,  while  the  old  stone  walls 
of  the  garrison  might  have  ears,  the  river,  the  prairie, 
and  the  mesquits  had  none. 


294  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"  Ransom,  you  know  why  all  the  people  in  Orleans 
speak  French?" 

"  They 's  French  folks,  all  on  'em,  mum,  they  is. 
Them  Spaniards  is  nothin'.  Ain't  real  Spanish,  none 
on  'em.  Gayoso,  he  'd  lived  in  England  all  his  life. 
This  one  has  to  talk  French.  Sham-Spanish  all  on 
'em,  they  is." 

"  Yes,  Ransom,  the  King  of  Spain  sends  over 
officers  who  speak  French,  because  the  people  are 
French  people." 

u  Yes,  'm,  all  French  folks  once  ;  had  French  guv- 
'nors.  Awful  times,  wen  your  brother  fust  come 
there,  —  when  they  tried  to  send  the  Spanish  guv- 
'nor  packing,  —  good  enough  for  him,  too.  He 
caught  'em  and  hanged  'em  all  —  darned  old  rascal, 
he  did.  Awful  times !  He  was  a  Paddy,  he  was ; 
darned  old  rascal !  " 

"  Yes,  Ransom,  and  a  very  cruel  thing  it  was. 
Well,  now,  Ransom,  the  King  of  Spain  is  frightened ; 
and  he  has  given  Orleans  back,  and  all  the  country, 
to  the  French." 

"  Guess  not,  Miss  Eunice !  "  said  the  old  man 
quickly,  really  surprised  this  time. 

"  Yes,  Ransom,  there  is  no  doubt  of  it ;  but  it  is  a 
great  secret.  The  French  general  told  my  brother, 
and  he  bade  me  tell  no  one  but  you  and  Inez.  Do 
not  let  these  people  dream  of  it  here." 

"  No,  marm,  and  they  don't  know  it  now.  Ef  they 
knew  it,  I  should  know.  They  don't  know  nothin'." 
Ransom  said  all  this  slowly,  with  long  pauses  between 
the  sentences.  But  Eunice  could  see  that  he  was 
pleased, — yes,  well  pleased  with  the  announcement 


or,  Show  your  Passports  295 

His  eyes  looked,  like  a  prophet's,  far  into  the  distance 
before  him ;  and  his  face  slowly  beamed  with  a  well- 
satisfied  smile,  as  if  he  had  himself  conducted  the 
great  negotiation. 

"  Good  thing,  Miss  Perry !  guess  it 's  a  good  thing. 
Mr.  Perry  did  not  go  for  nothin'.  Them  French  don't 
know  nothin'.  King  of  Spain,  darned  fool,  he  don't 
know  nothin'.  Ye  brother  had  to  go  'n'  tell  'em." 

"  No,  Ransom,  I  do  not  think  my  brother  told 
them.  But  he  says  he  is  glad  to  belong  to  the  side 
that  always  wins." 

"  Guess  Mr.  Perry  told  'em,  ma'am,"  was  Ran- 
som's fixed  reply.  "They's  all  fools  —  don't  know 
nothin'." 

Eunice  had  made  her  protest,  and  did  not  renew 
it.  She  knew  she  should  never  persuade  the  old 
man  that  he  and  Silas  Perry  together  did  not  manage 
all  those  affairs  in  the  universe  which  were  managed 
well. 

"  My  brother  is  well  pleased,  Ransom,  and  so  is 
Roland.  Roland  is  quite  a  friend  of  General  Bona- 
parte." 

"  Yes,  'm,  this  man  always  wins.  Say  his  soldiers 
cum  over  here  to  learn  fightin'.  Say  General  Wash- 
ington had  to  show  'em  how.  Say  Roshimbow's 
comin'  over  to  the  islands  now.  I  knew  that  one, 
Roshimbow,  myself;  held  his  hoss  for  him  one  day, 
down  to  Pomfert  meetin'-house,  when  he  stopped  to 
get  suthin  to  drink  at  the  tavern.  General  Washing- 
ton was  showin'  him  about  fightin'  then,  and  so  was 
old  General  Knox,  and  Colonel  Greaton;  and  now 
he 's  been  tellin'  this  other  one.  That 's  the  way  they 


296  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

knows  how  to  do  it.  French  is  nothin' ;  don't  know 
nothin'.  This  other  one,  he  's  an  Eyetalian." 

"  This  other  one,"  who  thus  received  the  art  of  war 
at  second-hand  from  Colonel  Greaton  of  the  Massachu- 
setts line,  and  from  George  Washington,  was  the  per- 
son better  known  in  history  as  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 

"  Ransom,  if  there  is  one  whisper  of  war  between 
France  and  Spain,  we  must  get  back  to  Orleans.  I 
am  sure  I  do  not  know  how.  Or  if  there  is  war  be- 
tween England  and  France  again,  or  between  England 
and  Spain.  Indeed,  I  wonder  sometimes  that  we 
ever  came ;  but  we  acted  for  the  best." 

She  hardly  knew  that  he  was  by  her,  as  she  fell  back 
on  these  anxieties.  But  it  was  just  as  well.  The  old 
man  was  as  sympathetic  as  her  mother  would  have 
been. 

"  Don't  you  be  troubled,  mum.  It 's  peace  now, 
and  the  major  here  thinks  it 's  like  to  be.  So  does 
the  guv'nor  and  the  general.  Heerd  'em  say  so  yes- 
terday. It's  peace  now,  and  it's  like  to  be."  Here 
a  long  pause.  "  Ain't  no  cause  to  be  troubled.  Miss 
Inez  liked  the  ride  comin',  and  she  '11  like  it  goin'. 
There  's  two  or  three  of  the  Greasers  here  will  go 
where  I  tell  'em,  and  three  of  the  niggers  too,  ef  you 
don't  like  to  ask  him  for  soldiers.  Should  n't  take  no 
trouble  about  it.  When  you  want  to  go,  mum, 
we'll  go.  I'll  tell  'em  the  king  sent  word  we  was  to 
go."  And  his  own  smile  showed  that  he  was  not 
displeased  at  the  prospect  of  leaving  behind  him  a 
community  which  he  held  in  deeper  scorn  than  the 
Orleans  which  he  loved  while  he  despised. 

"  I  hope  we  may  not  have  to  go,  Ransom ;  but  you 


or,  Show  your  Passports  297 

must  keep  your  eyes  open  and  your  ears,  and  we  will 
be  ready  to  go  at  an  hour's  warning." 

"  Yes,  'm,  the  sooner  the  better." 

The  truth  was,  that  the  signal  came  sooner  than 
Eunice  expected,  and  in  a  way  as  bad  as  the  worst 
that  she  had  feared.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  sultry 
day  in  June,  —  a  day  which  had  been  pronounced  too 
hot  for  riding,  —  the  ladies  had  just  returned  from  a 
bath  in  the  river,  and  were  not  in  full  costume,  when 
a  clamor  and  excitement  swept  among  the  garrison, 
and,  in  spite  of  Major  Barelo's  precautions  and  the 
Dona  Maria's,  made  way  even  into  the  rooms  of 
the  American  ladies.  The  White  Hawk  ran  out  to 
reconnoitre  and  inquire. 

A  band  of  Spanish  troopers,  with  great  fanfarons 
of  trumpets,  and  even  with  little  Moorish  drums,  came 
riding  into  the  plaza,  and  in  the  midst,  with  a  troop 
behind  as  well  as  before,  a  little  company  of  eleven 
bearded  men,  dirty  and  ragged,  heavily  ironed  lest 
they  might  leap  from  their  horses,  and,  without  arms, 
overthrow  a  hundred  Spanish  cavalry.  These  were 
the  American  prisoners.  They  had  been  kept  a 
month  at  Nacogdoches,  listening  to  lies  about  their 
release,  and  at  last  were  on  their  way  to  Chihuahua 
and  the  mines. 

The  White  Hawk,  with  her  usual  indifference  to 
regulations,  walked  right  down  to  this  wretched  coffle, 
and  in  a  minute  recognized  Blackburn,  who  had  seen 
her  at  Nacogdoches.  Without  attempting  a  word  of 
English,  she  asked  him  in  pantomime  where  Harrod 
was,  for  the  girl  saw  that  he  was  not  in  the  number. 
Blackburn  did  not  conceal  his  surprise.  He  had 


I 

298  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

taken  it  for  granted,  as  they  all  had,  that  Harrod  and 
the  others  had  been  held  by  the  Spaniards.  He  told 
the  girl,  in  gestures  which  she  perfectly  understood, 
that  they  had  never  seen  Harrod,  nor  King,  nor 
Adams,  nor  Richards,  since,  with  old  Caesar,  he 
parted  from  them  in  the  autumn. 

Then  she  ventured  on  the  further  question,  to 
which,  alas !  she  knew  the  answer,  —  Where  was 
Captain  Nolan?  Ah,  me  !  the  poor  fellow  could  only 
confirm  the  cruel  news  of  two  months  before.  His 
quick  gesture  showed  where  the  fatal  shot  struck, 
and  how  sudden  was  his  death.  Then  he  told,  in  a 
minute  more,  that  all  this  was  but  the  morning  after 
Crooked  Feather  left  them.  He  called  her  to  him, 
and  bade  her  stroke  his  horse's  neck,  and  lie  close 
against  his  fore-leg  as  she  did  so.  She  was  as  quick 
and  stealthy  as  a  savage  would  have  been  in  obeying 
him ;  and  in  an  instant  more  she  was  rewarded.  He 
slid  into  her  hand,  under  the  rough  mane,  the  little 
prayer-book  which  Eunice  had  sent  to  Nolan.  Black- 
burn himself  had  taken  it  from  his  leader's  body  when 
they  buried  him ;  and  though,  Heaven  knows,  he  had 
been  stripped  and  plundered  once  and  again  since, 
so  that  nothing  else  was  left  him  that  he  could  call 
his  own,  the  plunderers  were  men  who  had  a  certain 
fear  of  prayer-books,  —  if  it  were  fear  which  rever- 
enced, —  and,  for  good  reasons  and  for  bad,  they  had 
left  him  this  and  this  alone. 

"  Come  again  !  Come  again  !  "  said  the  White 
Hawk  fearlessly;  and  she  hurried  away  from  the 
troop,  with  the  news  she  had  collected.  In  a  minute 
more  she  had  joined  the  ladies. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  299 

"  Troopers  come  —  Ma-ry  —  Ma-ry  —  troopers. 
Nolan's  men  come,  —  five,  five,  one !  "  and  she  held 
up  her  fingers.  "  Poor  men  !  they  are  all  —  what 
you  call  —  iron  —  iron  —  here,  here  —  on  hands  —  on 
feet.  Blackburn  come  :  me  talk  to  Blackburn,  Black- 
burn tell  all.  Darling,  darling,  Will  Harrod  never 
found  them!  Will  Harrod  never  saw  them!  O 
darling,  darling  dear !  Will  Harrod  all  safe,  —  all 
gone  home,  —  Orleans,  —  darling,  darling  dear ! " 

"Who  says  he  's  safe?  "  cried  poor  Inez,  starting 
to  her  feet. 

"  Me  say  so,  —  me  say  he  never  saw  Nolan,  — 
never  saw  Blackburn.  Blackburn  said  he  was  here. 
Blackburn  wonder  very,  very  much,  Will  Harrod  not 
here.  Blackburn  tell  me,  —  tell  me  now,  —  Will 
Harrod  never  come,  King  never  come,  Adams  never 
come,  Richards  never  come.  Blackburn  say  all  here. 
Nobody  come  but  old  Caesar  and  Blackburn.  Old 
Caesar  here  now :  me  see  old  Caesar." 

Inez  had  fallen  back  when  she  saw  that  Harrod's 
safety  was  only  the  White  Hawk's  guess.  But  now 
she  started. 

"  Dear,  dear  old  Caesar !  let  me  go  see  him  too ;  " 
and  they  ran.  But  the  prisoners  had  already  been 
led  away;  and  there  needed  formal  applications  to 
Barelo  —  and  who  should  say  to  whom  else  ?  —  before 
they  could  talk  with  the  poor  old  fellow. 

To  such  applications,  however,  Barelo  was  in  no 
sort  deaf.  If  he  had  dared,  and  if  there  had  not  been 
twenty  or  thirty  days'  hard  travel  to  the  frontier,  he 
would  have  given  permits  enough  to  Ransom  and  Miss 
Perry  and  Mademoiselle  Inez  and  the  White  Hawk  to 


300  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

have  set  every  one  of  the  "  bearded  men  "  free ;  he 
would  have  made  a  golden  bridge  for  them  to  escape 
by,  for  Major  Barelo  could  and  did  read  the  future. 
This  was  impossible.  But  old  Ransom  daily,  and  one 
or  other  of  the  ladies,  saw  the  prisoners,  and,  while 
they  could,  ministered  to  their  wants. 

White  Hawk's  first  story  was  entirely  confirmed. 
Neither  of  the  escort  of  the  ladies  had  ever  been  seen 
on  the  Tockowakono  or  Upper  Brassos.  The  men 
thought  they  had  deserted,  and  gone  back  to  Natchez  ; 
but  Inez  of  course,  and  Eunice,  knew  that  Harrod 
had  never  deserted  his  friend. 

"  No  !  the  Apaches  have  him,  or  the  Comanches." 

"  They  had  him  !  they  had  him,  Eunice  !  But 
they  keep  no  prisoners  alive  !  "  and,  in  a  paroxysm 
of  weeping,  Inez  fell  on  her  aunt's  lap ;  and  the  pre- 
tended secret  of  her  heart  was  a  secret  no  longer  to 
either  of  them. 

It  was  Inez's  wretchedness,  perhaps,  which  wore 
more  and  more  on  Eunice  as  the  summer  crept  by. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  wretchedness  of  the  miserable 
handful  of  men  kept  in  close  confinement  at  Antonio. 
Month  after  month  this  captivity  continued.  More 
and  more  doubtful  were  Cordero's  and  Herrara's 
words,  when  Eunice  forced  them,  as  she  would  force 
them,  to  speak  of  the  chances  of  liberation.  As 
September  passed  there  came  one  of  the  flying 
rumors  from  below,  of  which  no  man  knew  the 
authority,  that  the  King  of  Spain  had  quarrelled  with 
the  French  Republic.  This  rumor  gave  Eunice  new 
ground  for  anxiety  as  to  her  position;  and  she  was 
well  disposed  to  yield,  when  Inez  one  night  broke  all 


or,  Show  your  Passports  301 

reserve,  and,  after  one  of  the  endless  talks  about  the 
mysteries  and  miseries  around  them,  cried  out  in  her 
agony,  — 

"  I  must  go  home  !  " 

CHAPTER  XXV 

COUNTERMARCH 

"  Berenice.  *T  is  done ! 

Deep  in  your  heart  you  wish  me  to  be  gone  ; 
And  I  depart.     Yes,  I  depart  to-day. 
—  *  Linger  a  little  longer  ?  '     Wherefore  stay  ? 
To  be  the  laughing-stock  of  high  and  low  ? 
To  hear  a  people  gossip  for  my  woe  ? 
While  tidings  such  as  these  my  peace  destroy, 
To  see  my  sorrows  feed  the  common  joy  ? 
Why  should  I  stay?     To-night  shall  see  me  gone." 

RACINE. 

EUNICE  slept  upon  the  girl's  ejaculation ;  and  the  next 
morning  she  was  determined.  She  went  at  once  to 
her  brother's  brother-in-law,  and  said  to  him  that 
their  visit  had  lasted  nearly  a  year,  that  the  very 
circumstance  impended  by  which  her  brother  had 
limited  it,  and  that  frankly  she  must  ask  him  for  such 
escort  as  he  could  give  her  to  Natchitoches.  Once 
at  Natchitoches,  she  would  trust  herself  to  her  own 
servants'  care,  as  they  should  float  down  the  Red 
River. 

The  major  was  careworn,  evidently  disliked  to 
approach  the  subject;  but,  with  the  courtesy  of  a 
host  and  of  a  true  gentleman,  tried  to  dissuade  her. 
He  asked  her  why  a  breeze  between  Bonaparte  and 


302  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

his  sovereign  should  affect  two  ladies  in  the  heart  of 
America.  Was  this  affectation?  Had  he  heard  that 
Louisiana  was  to  be  French  again?  Did  he  want  to 
come  at  her  secrets? 

Eunice  looked  him  bravely  in  the  eye  before  she 
answered.  She  satisfied  herself  that  he  was  sincere ; 
that  he  did  not  know  that  great  state  secret  which 
had  been  intrusted  to  her,  and  which  would  so  easily 
explain  her  anxiety. 

"  I  do  not  know  when  my  brother  will  sail  on  his 
return.  Suppose  the  First  Consul  of  France  chooses 
to  say  that  he  shall  not  return?  " 

"  Then  your  niece  will  be  here  under  the  protection 
of  her  nearest  American  relations.'1 

"  Suppose  General  Victor,  with  this  fine  French 
army  of  which  you  tell  me,  passes  by  St.  Domingo, 
and  lights  upon  Orleans.  How  long  will  my  friend 
Casa  Calvo  defend  that  city,  with  a  French  people 
behind  him,  and  a  French  army  and  fleet  before 
him?" 

"  He  will  defend  it  quite  as  long  without  the  aid  of 
the  Mademoiselles  Perry  as  with,"  was  Barelo's  grave 
reply,  made  as  if  this  contingency  were  not  new  to 
his  imaginings. 

"  And  if  my  brother  and  my  nephew  be  with 
General  Victor,  if  they  land  in  Orleans,  surely  they 
will  expect  to  find  us  there,"  said  poor  Eunice  quite 
too  eagerly. 

"  My  dear  sister,"  said  the  Spanish  gentleman 
gravely,  "  do  not  let  us  argue  a  matter  of  which  we 
know  so  little.  I  am  only  anxious  to  do  what  you 
wish:  only  I  must  justify  myself  to  Don  Silas  Perry, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  303 

in  event  of  any  misfortune.  I  cannot  think  that  he 
would  approve  of  my  sending  you  two  ladies  into  a 
scene  of  war." 

"Then  you  believe  that  war  impends!"  cried 
Eunice,  more  anxious  than  ever.  "  My  dear,  dear 
brother,  what  madness  it  was  that  we  ever  came !  " 

This  was  not  a  satisfactory  beginning.  It  was  the 
determination,  however,  as  it  happened,  of  the  route 
which  the  little  party  took,  and  took  soon,  —  by  one 
of  those  chances  wholly  unhoped  for  when  Eunice 
approached  the  major.  On  the  very  afternoon  of 
that  day,  the  monotony  of  the  garrison  life,  which  had 
become  so  hateful  to  both  the  ladies,  was  broken  up 
by  the  arrival  of  an  unexpected  party.  Mr.  Lonsdale 
had  returned,  with  a  rather  cumbrous  group  of 
hunters,  guides,  grooms,  and  attendants  without  a 
name,  with  whom  he  had  made  a  long  excursion  to 
the  mines  of  Potosi.  The  arrival  of  so  large  a  party 
was  a  great  event  in  the  garrison. 

Greatly  to  the  surprise  of  Miss  Perry  and  her  niece, 
who  had  excused  themselves  from  a  little  reunion 
which  called  together  most  of  the  garrison  ladies,  a 
visitor  was  announced,  and  Mr.  Lonsdale  presented 
himself.  Inez  was  fairly  caught,  and,  at  the  moment, 
could  not  escape  from  the  room,  as  she  would  have 
done  gladly.  She  satisfied  herself  by  receiving  him 
very  formally,  and  then  by  sitting  behind  him  and 
making  menacing  gestures,  which  could  not  be  seen 
by  him,  but  could  be  seen  perfectly  by  her  aunt  and 
Ma-ry.  With  such  assistance  Eunice  Perry  carried 
on  the  conversation  alone. 

With  some  assistance,  he  was  fired  up  to  tell  the 


304  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

story  of  what  he  and  his  party  had  done,  and  what 
they  had  not  done ;  to  tell  how  silver  was  mined,  and 
what  was  a  "  conducta"  He  told  of  skirmishes  with 
Indians,  in  which  evidently  he  had  borne  himself  with 
all  the  courage  of  his  nation,  and  of  which  he  spoke 
with  all  the  modesty  of  a  gentleman.  But,  as  soon 
as  Eunice  paused  at  all,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  as  his  wont 
was,  shifted  the  subject,  and  compelled  her  to  talk  of 
herself  and  her  own  plans.  Not  one  allusion  to  poor 
Nolan:  that  was  too  sad.  But,  of  American  politics, 
many  questions ;  of  the  politics  of  the  world,  more. 
Who  was  this  man,  and  why  was  he  here? 

"  When  I  was  in  Philadelphia  and  New  York  they 
called  Mr.  Jefferson  the  pacific  candidate.  Will  he 
prove  to  be  the  pacific  president?  " 

"  You  more  than  I  know,  Mr.  Lonsdale.  It  was  Pre- 
sident Adams  who  made  peace  with  the  First  Consul." 

"  I  know  that,  and  I  know  the  Mademoiselles  Perry 
are  good  Federalists."  Here  he  attempted  to  turn 
to  see  Inez,  and  almost  detected  her  doubling  her 
fist  behind  his  back.  "  I  had  a  long  talk  with 
Mr.  Jefferson,  but  I  could  not  get  at  his  views  or 
convictions." 

"  He  would  hardly  mention  them  to  a  —  to  any  but 
an  intimate  friend,"  said  Eunice  rather  stiffly,  while 
Inez  represented  herself  as  scalping  the  Englishman. 

"  No,  no !  of  course  not !  Yet  I  wish  I  knew.  I 
wish  any  man  knew  if  the  First  Consul  means 
war  or  peace  with  England,  or  war  or  peace  with 
America." 

Eunice  saw  no  harm  here  in  saying  what  she  knew. 

"  General   Bonaparte  means  peace  with  America, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  305 

my  brother  says  and  believes.  My  nephew  has  been 
intimate  at  Malmaison,  and  my  brother  has  seen  the 
First  Consul  with  great  advantages.  He  thinks  him 
a  man  of  the  rarest  genius  for  war  or  for  peace.  He 
is  sure  that  his  policy  is  peace  with  us,  —  with 
America,  I  mean." 

"  You  amaze  me,"  said  Mr.  Lonsdale.  "  I  sup- 
posed this  general  was  one  more  popinjay  like  the 
others,  —  a  brag  and  a  bluster.  I  supposed  his  his- 
tory was  to  be  strung  on  the  same  string  with  that 
of  all  these  men." 

And  in  saying  this  Lonsdale  did  but  say  what 
almost  every  Englishman  of  his  time  said  and  be- 
lieved. Nothing  is  more  droll,  now  it  is  all  over, 
than  a  study  of  the  English  caricatures  of  that  day,  as 
they  contrast  "  the  best  of  kings  "  and  "  the  Corsican 
adventurer."  How  pitiless  history  chooses  to  be ! 

In  one  of  these  caricatures  George  III.  figures  as 
Gulliver,  and  "  General  Buonaparte  "  is  the  King  of 
Liliput ! 

Eunice  could  well  afford  to  be  frank  at  this  time, 
whether  Lonsdale  were  Conolly,  Chisholm,  Bowles,  or 
any  other  English  spy. 

"  My  last  letters  from  my  brother  are  very  late. 
He  was  certain  then  of  peace  between  England  and 
France ;  and  of  this  I  have  spoken  freely  here." 

Lonsdale  certainly  was  thrown  off  guard.  His 
whole  face  lighted  up  with  pleasure. 

"Are  you  sure?  are  you  sure?  Let  me  shake 
hands  with  you,  Miss  Perry.  This  is  indeed  almost 
too  good  to  be  true !  " 

Eunice  gave  him  her  hand,  and  said,  — 
20 


306  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"  Let  us  hope  the  new  century  is  to  be  the  century 
of  peace,  indeed.  Shall  we  drink  that  toast  in  a  glass 
of  rain-water?  "  and,  at  a  sign  from  her,  the  White 
Hawk  brought  him  a  glass  of  pure  water  from  a 
Moorish-looking  jar  of  unglazed  clay. 

"  Ma-ry,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  Englishman 
slowly,  with  the  tears  fairly  standing  in  his  eyes,  "  do 
you  know  what  comes  to  those  who  give  others  a  cup 
of  cold  water?" 

Eunice  had  never  seen  such  depth  of  feeling  on  his 
face  or  in  his  manner ;  and  even  Inez  was  hushed  to 
something  serious. 

As  he  put  down  the  glass,  he  passed  Miss  Perry, 
and  in  a  low  tone  he  said,  — 

"  May  I  speak  with  you  alone?" 

Eunice,  without  hesitation,  sent  the  girls  to  bed. 
Who  was  this  man,  and  what  did  he  come  for? 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Perry,  you  know  of  course  how 
much  you  can  trust  of  what  is  secret,  in  this  cursed 
web  of  secrets,  to  our  young  friends.  You  may  call 
them  back,  if  you  please.  You  may  tell  them  every 
word  I  tell  you.  But  I  supposed  it  more  prudent  to 
speak  to  you  alone.  As  I  came  across  the  Rio 
Grande  I  learned,  and  am  sure,  that  Governor  Salcedo 
has  gone  to  Orleans.  That  means  something." 

Of  course  it  did.  The  transfer  of  Salcedo  to  the 
government  of  Louisiana  must  mean  more  stringent 
and  suspicious  government  of  Orleans.  Did  it  mean 
war  with  America?  Did  it  mean  war  with  France? 

"  !•  thought,"  continued  the  taciturn  Englishman, 
stumbling  again  now,  —  "  I  thought —  I  was  sure  — 
you  should  know  this ;  and  I  doubted  if  our  friends 


or,  Show  your  Passports  3°7 

here  would  tell  you.  In  your  place,  such  news  would 
take  me  home;  and  therefore  I  hurried  here  to  tell 
you.  We  made  short  work  from  the  river,  I  assure 
you." 

"  How  good  you  are !  "  said  Eunice  frankly,  and 
smiling  even  in  her  wonder  why  this  impassive 
Englishman,  this  spy  of  Lord  Dorchester  or  of  Lord 
Hawksbury,  should  care  for  her  journey. 

"  How  good  you  are  !  You  are  very  right.  Yet  to 
think  that  I  should  want  to  go  nearer  to  that  brute 
Salcedo  !  For  really  I  believe  it  is  he,  Mr.  Lonsdale, 
it  is  he  who  murdered  our  friend.  But  I  do  —  I  do 
want  to  go  home.  Oh!  why  did  I  come?  I  asked 
my  brother  that  this  morning." 

"The  past  is  the  past,  dear  Miss  Perry.  Your 
question  is  not,  Why  did  you  come?  but,  How  shall 
you  go?  " 

"  And  how  indeed?  "  said  she  sadly.  "  My  brother 
virtually  refuses  me  an  escort.  I  do  not  know  why. 
He  wants  to  keep  us  here." 

"  Major  Barelo  hates,  dreads,  despises,  this  Salcedo, 
—  this  cruel,  vindictive,  '  moribund  old  man/  as  I 
overheard  him  say  one  day,  —  as  heartily  as  you 
do,  or  as  I  do.  But,  all  the  same,  he  is  a  soldier. 
De  Nava  or  Salcedo  may  have  ordered  every  man 
to  be  kept  at  this  post,  or  within  this  intendancy." 

"  They  have  ordered  something,"  said  Eunice ; 
and  she  mused.  Then  frankly,  "  Oh,  Mr.  Lonsdale ! 
you  are  a  diplomatist:  I  am  a  woman.  You  know 
how  to  manage  men :  for  me,  I  do  not  know  how  to 
manage  these  two  girls.  They  manage  me,"  and  she 
smiled  faintly.  "  Forget  you  are  an  official,  and  for 


308  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

twenty-four   hours   think  and   see  what   an    English 
gentleman  can  do  for  a  friend." 

She  even  rose  from  her  chair  in  her  excitement: 
she  looked  him  straight  in  the  face,  as  he  remembered 
her  doing  once  before;  and  she  gave  him  her  hand 
loyally. 

Lonsdale  was  clearly  surprised. 

"  Why  you  call  me  a  diplomatist,  I  do  not  know. 
That  I  am  a  gentleman,  this  you  shall  see.  Miss 
Perry,  I  came  into  this  room,  only  to  offer  what  you 
ask.  Because  the  offer  must  be  secret  if  you  decline 
it,  I  asked  you  to  send  the  young  ladies  away." 

Then  he  told  her  that  he  had  reason  to  believe,  — 
he  said  no  more  than  that,  —  he  had  "  reason  to 
believe "  that  a  little  tender  to  an  English  frigate 
would  be  hanging  off  and  on  at  Corpus  Christi  Bay, 
on  the  coast  below  San  Antonio.  He  knew  the  com- 
mander of  this  little  vessel,  and  he  knew  he  would 
comply  with  his  wishes  in  an  exigency.  Wherever 
the  "  Firefly  "  might  be,  her  boats  could  push  well  up 
the  river. 

"Your  brother  will  give  you  escort  in  this  com- 
mand, without  the  slightest  hesitation ;  and,  once  on 
a  king's  vessel,  you  need  no  more,"  he  said  eagerly. 

Eunice  was  surprised  indeed. 

"Could  we  wait  for  her,  down  yonder  on  the 
shore?  What  would  these  girls  do  in  such  a 
wilderness?" 

"There  will  be  no  waiting,"  he  said  quietly  but 
firmly.  "  The  moment  I  suspected  your  danger,  — 
I  beg  your  pardon,  your  anxiety,  —  I  sent  two  of 
my  best  men  down  the  coast  to  signal  Drapier. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  309 

His  boats  will  be  at  La  Bahia  if  you  determine 
to  go.  They  will  be  there,  on  the  chance  of  your 
determining." 

"Mr.  Lonsdale!  how  can  I  thank  you?  I  do 
thank  you,  and  you  know  I  do.  Let  me  call  Ran- 
som. Major  Barelo  shall  give  us  the  escort;  nay, 
we  really  need  no  escort  to  Bahia.  The  girls  shall 
be  ready,  and  we  will  start  an  hour  before  sunset 
to-morrow." 

She  called  the  old  man  at  once.  She  gave  her 
orders  in  the  tone  which  he  knew  meant  there  was  to 
be  no  discussion.  She  said  no  word  of  a  secret  to  be 
preserved:  she  had  determined  at  once  to  trust  the 
English  spy's  good  faith.  She  and  her  doves  would 
be  out  of  this  Franciscan  and  Moorish  cage  before  the 
setting  of  another  sun.  Better  trust  an  English  spy 
than  the  tender  mercies  of  Nemisio  de  Salcedo,  or  the 
ingenious  wiles  of  Father  Jeronimo  and  his  brothers ! 

Major  Barelo  was  surprised,  of  course,  but  clearly 
enough  he  also  was  relieved.  Lonsdale  was  right 
when  he  guessed  that  Elguezebal  and  he  could  easily 
give  escort  between  the  fort  and  the  bay,  while  they 
might  not  send  any  troops  as  far  away  as  the  Red 
River.  "  With  my  consent  not  a  bird  should  leave 
Texas  for  Louisiana ; "  this  was  always  Salcedo's 
motto.  The  wonder  was  that  he  himself  crossed  that 
sacred  barrier. 

And  by  five  o'clock  of  the  next  day  the  dresses 
were  packed,  and  the  good-byes  were  said.  Old 
Ransom  had  drawn  the  last  strap  two  holes  farther 
up  than  earlier  packers  had  left  it.  He  had  scolded 
the  last  stable-boy,  and  then  made  him  rich  for  life 


3 1  o  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

by  scattering  among  all  the  boys  a  handful  of  rials, 
—  "  bits,"  as  he  called  them.  He  had  lifted  the  girls 
to  their  saddles,  while  Miss  Eunice  more  sedately 
mounted  from  the  parapet  of  the  stairs;  and  then 
the  two  troops,  one  English  in  every  saddle  and 
stirrup,  the  other  French  as  well  in  its  least  detail, 
filed  out  into  the  plaza.  Both  were  extraordinary 
to  a  people  of  horsemen,  whose  Spanish  equip- 
ments were  the  best  in  the  world.  Major  Barelo  and 
dear  Aunt  Dolores  stood  on  the  gallery;  and  he 
flung  out  his  handkerchief,  and  said,  "  Good-by." 

"  Just  as  dear  papa  said  on  the  levee  !  Oh,  dear- 
est aunty,  if  he  could  only  be  there  to  meet  us ! 
Why,  aunty,  it  was  a  year  ago  this  living  day !  " 

Sure  enough,  it  was  just  a  year  since  the  little 
Inez's  journeyings  had  begun.  She  was  a  thousand 
years  older. 

An  hour's  ride  out  of  town,  and  then  the  sun  was 
down ;  but  here  were  the  tents  pitched  and  waiting 
for  them.  So  like  last  year !  but  so  unlike !  No 
old  Caesar,  alas !  Inez's  last  care  had  been  to  visit 
him  in  the  lock-up,  and  to  promise  him  all  papa's 
influence  for  his  release.  No  Phil  Nolan,  alas !  and 
no  Will  Harrod !  Eunice  confessed  to  Lonsdale 
that,  if  she  had  had  imagination  enough  to  foresee  the 
wretched  recollections  of  the  camp,  she  could  not 
have  braved  them.  But  Inez,  dear  child,  was  truly 
brave.  She  said  no  word.  She  was  pale  and 
thoughtful ;  but  she  applied  herself  to  the  little  cares 
of  the  encampment,  which  a  year  ago  she  would  have 
lazily  left  to  her  cavaliers,  and  she  made  the  White 
Hawk  join  her. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  311 

Lonsdale  also  was  eager  and  careful.  But  oh,  the 
difference  between  the  elaborated  services  of  this  man, 
trained  in  cities,  and  the  easy  attentions  of  those 
others,  born  to  the  wilderness,  and  all  at  home 
in  it! 

Ransom,  with  all  his  feminine  sympathy,  felt  the 
lack  of  what  they  had  last  year,  and  managed,  in  his 
way,  to  supply  it  better  than  any  one  else  could. 
His  vassals  had  served  the  supper  better  than  could 
have  been  hoped  ;  the  beds  were  ready  for  the  ladies, 
and  as  soon  as  the  short  and  quiet  meal  was  over 
they  retired. 

Lonsdale  lighted  a  cigar,  called  the  old  man  to 
him,  and  invited  him  to  join  him.  No,  he  would  not 
smoke,  never  did ;  but  when  Lonsdale  repeated  his 
invitation  he  sat  down. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Mr.  Ransom.  The  ladies 
like  this  camp-life  better  than  any  quarters  they 
would  have  given  us  yonder." 

He  pointed  over  his  shoulder  at  some  little  build- 
ings of  an  outpost  of  the  "Mission/' 

Ransom  did  not  conceal  his  disgust  as  he  looked 
round. 

'*  See  the  critters  furder,"  said  he :  "  treat  us  jest 
as  they  treated  them  redskins  last  spring  when  they 
got  um.  They  would  ef  they  wanted  to.  See  um 
furder.  Et  's  them  cussed  black  goats  V  rope-yarn 
men  that's  at  the  bottom  o'  this  war  ag'in  the  cap'n 
—  Cap'n  Nolan.  The  cap'n  couldn't  stand  um,  he 
couldn't;  he  told  um  so,  he  did.  He  gin  um  a  bit 
of  his  mind.  Cussed  critters  never  forgot  it,  they 
did  n't  —  never  forgot  it.  Cap'n  gin  um  a  bit  of  his 


3 1 2  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

mind,  he  did.  Cussed  critters  is  at  the  bottom  of 
this  war.  See  um  furder." 

"  But  you  have  to  see  them  a  good  deal  at  Orleans, 
Mr.  Ransom,  do  you  not?  There  is  no  Protestant 
church  there,  is  there?  " 

"  Guess  not.  Ain't  no  meetinghouse  there,  and 
no  meetin'.  Ain't  nothing  but  eyedolaters,  'n' 
immigis,  V  smoke-pans,  V  boys  in  shirts.  See  um ! 
guess  we  do,  the  critters.  Bishop  comes  round  to 
dine.  Likes  good  Madeira  and  Cognac  'zwell  'zany- 
body,  he  does.  Poor  set,  all  on  um.  Ignorant 
critters.  Don't  know  nothin'.  No  !  ain't  no  meetin'- 
house  in  Orleans." 

"  Do  they  give  Mr.  Perry  or  Miss  Perry  any  trouble 
about  their  religion?  Do  they  wish  them  to  come  to 
church,  or  to  the  confessional?  Did  they  baptise 
Miss  Inez?" 

"Do  they?  I  see  um  git  Mr.  Perry  to  church  ef 
he  did  n't  want  to  go !  "  and  the  old  man  chuckled 
enigmatically.  "They's  ignorant  critters,  they  is; 
but  they  knows  enough  not  to  break  they  own  heads, 
they  do." 

"You  have  heard  of  the  inquisition?"  persisted 
Lonsdale. 

"  Guess  I  have.  Seen  the  cussed  critters  when  I 
was  at  Cadiz  in  the  '  Jehu :  '  that 's  nineteen  years 
ago  last  summer.  Never  had  none  here  to  Orleans, 
never  but  once !  "  And  this  time  he  chuckled 
triumphantly.  "  They  did  n't  stay  long  then,  they 
did  n't.  Went  off  quicker  than  they  come,  they  did. 
I  know  um.  Cussed  critters." 

Lonsdale  was  curious,  and  asked  for  an  explanation. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  313 

The  old  man's  face  beamed  delight.  He  looked 
up  to  the  stars,  and  told  this  story:  — 

"  Best  guv'nor  they  ever  had,  over  there  to  Or- 
leans, was  a  man  named  Miro.  Spoke  English  heself 
most  as  well  as  I  do.  Married  Miss  Maccarty,  he 
did  —  pretty  Irish  girl  Was  n't  no  real  Spanisher 
at  all.  Well,  one  day,  they  comes  one  of  these  dirty 
rascals  with  a  rope's  end  round  him  —  brown  blanket 
coat  on  —  comes  up  from  Cuba,  he  does  —  comes  to 
Guv'nor  Miro.  Guv'nor  Miro  asked  him  to  din- 
ner, he  did,  and  gin  him  his  quarters.  Then  the 
cussed  fool  sends  a  note  to  the  guv'nor,  he  says,  sez 
he,  that  these  underground  critters,  these  Inky  Sijoan 
they  calls  um  over  there;  they'd  sent  him,  they  had, 
says  he ;  and  mebbe  he  should  want  a  file  o'  soldiers 
some  night.  Says  so  in  a  letter  to  the  guv'nor.  So 
the  guv'nor,  he  thought,  ef  Old  Nightgown  wanted 
the  soldiers  he  'd  better  have  um.  'N'  he  sent  round 
a  sergeant  'n'  a  file  of  men  that  night,  he  did,  at  mid- 
night, V  waked  up  Old  Nightgown  in  his  bed.  'N' 
Old  Nightgown  says,  says  he,  he  was  much  obliged, 
but  that  night  he  did  n't  need  um.  But  the  sergeant 
says,  says  he,  that  he  needed  Old  Nightgown,  'n'  as 
soon  as  the  old  fool  got  his  rawhide  shoes  tied  on, 
the  corporal  marched  him  down  to  the  levee,  'n'  sent 
him  off  to  Cadiz,  he  did ;  'n'  that 's  the  last  time  the 
Inky  Sijoan  men  come  here — 'n1  the  fust  time  too. 
Guv'nor  Miro  the  best  guv'nor  they  ever  had  over 
there.  Half  Englishman." 

Lonsdale  appreciated  the  compliment.  His  cigar 
was  finished.  He  bade  the  old  man  good-night  and 
turned  in. 


314  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

HOMEWARD  BOUND 

"  So  they  resolved,  the  morrow  next  ensuing, 
So  soon  as  day  appeared  to  people's  viewing, 
On  their  intended  journey  to  proceed  ; 
And  overnight  whatso  thereto  did  need 
Each  did  prepare,  in  readiness  to  be. 
The  morrow  next,  so  soon  as  one  might  see 
Light  out  of  heaven's  windows  forth  to  look, 
They  their  habiliments  unto  them  took, 
And  put  themselves,  in  God's  name,  on  their  way." 

Mother  Hubberd's  Tale. 

So  short  a  journey  as  that  from  San  Antonio  to  the 
Gulf  seemed  nothing  to  travellers  so  experienced  as 
Miss  Perry  and  her  niece.  As  for  the  White  Hawk, 
she  was  never  so  happy  as  in  the  open  air,  and  es- 
pecially as  on  horseback.  She  counted  all  time  lost 
that  was  spent  elsewhere,  and  was  frank  enough  to 
confess  that  she  thought  that  they  had  all  escaped 
from  a  feverish  wild  dream,  or  what  was  as  bad  as 
such,  in  coming  away  from  those  close  prison  walls. 
The  glorious  weather  of  October,  in  a  ride  over  the 
prairies  in  one  of  the  loveliest  regions  of  the  world, 
could  not  but  raise  the  spirits  of  all  the  ladies;  and 
Mr.  Lonsdale  might  well  congratulate  himself  on  the 
successful  result  of  his  bold  application  to  Miss 
Perry. 

As  they  approached  the  Gulf,  he  kept  some  look- 
outs well  in  advance,  in  hope  of  sighting  the  boat  or 
boats  from  the  "  Firefly  "  which  he  expected.  But 


or,  Show  your  Passports  315 

Friday  night  came  with  no  report  from  these  men ; 
and,  although  they  had  not  returned,  he  was  fain  to 
order  a  halt,  after  conference  with  Ransom,  on  a  little 
flat  above  a  half-bluff  which  looked  down  upon  the 
stream.  The  short  twilight  closed  in  on  them  as 
they  made  their  supper.  But  after  the  supper  was 
finished,  as  they  strolled  up  and  down  before  going 
to  bed,  a  meteor,  far  more  brilliant  than  any  shooting 
star  could  be  so  near  the  horizon,  rose  above  the 
river  in  the  eastern  distance;  and  as  they  all  won- 
dered another  arose,  and  yet  another.  "  Rockets  !  " 
cried  Mr.  Lonsdale,  well  pleased.  "  Roberts  has 
found  them;  and  this  is  their  short-hand  way  of 
telling  us  that  they  are  at  hand.  —  William,"  he  said, 
turning  to  the  thoroughly  respectable  servant  who  in 
top-boots  and  buckskins  followed  his  wanderings  in 
these  deserts,  —  "  William,  find  something  which  you 
can  show  to  them."  The  man  of  all  arts  disappeared ; 
and,  while  the  girls  were  yet  looking  for  another 
green  star  in  the  distance,  they  were  startled  by  the 
"shirr-r"  of  a  noisy  rocket  which  rose  close  above 
their  own  heads,  and  burst  beautiful  above  the  still 
waters.  Another  and  another  followed  in  quick  suc- 
cession, and  the  reply  was  thus  secure.  The  White 
Hawk  was  beside  herself  with  delight.  She  watched 
the  firing  of  No.  2  as  Eunice  might  have  watched  the 
skilful  manipulations  of  Madame  Le  Brun.  William 
was  well  pleased  by  her  approbation.  He  did  not 
bend  much  from  the  serenity  of  a  London  valet's 
bearing,  but  he  did  permit  the  White  Hawk  herself 
to  apply  the  burning  brand  to  the  match  of  the  third 
rocket.  The  girl  screamed  with  delight  as  she  saw 


3 1 6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

it  burst,  and  as  the  falling  stick  plunged  into  the 
river. 

"  To-morrow  morning,  Miss  Inez,  your  foot  is  on 
the  deck,  and  these  pleasant  wanderings  of  ours  are 
over  forever."  Even  Inez's  severity  toward  the  man 
she  tried  to  hate  gave  way  at  his  display  —  so  diffi- 
cult for  a  man  of  his  make  —  of  emotion  which  was 
certainly  real  and  deep. 

"  But,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  no  Englishman  will  convince 
me  that  he  is  sorry  to  be  on  the  sea." 

"  Cela  depend.  I  shall  be  sorry  if  the  sea  parts  me 
from  near  and  dear  friends." 

"  As  if  I  meant  to  be  sentimental  with  old  Chis- 
holm  or  Conolly,  because  he  had  been  good  to  us !  " 
This  was  Inez's  comment  as  she  repeated  the  conver- 
sation to  her  aunt  afterward.  "  I  was  not  going  to 
be  affectionate  to  him." 

"  What  did  you  say?  "  asked  Eunice,  laughing. 

"  I  said  I  was  afraid  Ma-ry  would  be  seasick,"  said 
the  reckless  girl.  "  I  thought  that  would  take  off  the 
romance  for  him."  None  the  less  could  Eunice  see 
that  the  rancor  of  her  rage  and  hatred  was  much 
abated,  as  is  the  fortune  often  of  the  wild  passions  of 
that  age  of  discretion  which  comes  at  eighteen  years. 

Mr.  Lonsdale  had  not  promised  more  than  he  per- 
formed. Before  the  ladies  were  astir  the  next  morn- 
ing, two  boats  were  at  an  improvised  landing  below 
the  tents.  Ransom  had  transferred  to  them  already  all 
the  packs  from  the  mules  ;  and  there  needed  only  that 
breakfast  should  be  over,  and  the  ladies'  last  "  traps  " 
were  embarked  also,  and  they  were  themselves  on 
board.  A  boatswain  in  charge  received  Mr.  Lons- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  317 

dale  with  tokens  of  respect  which  did  not  escape 
Inez's  eye.  As  for  the  White  Hawk,  she  was  beside 
herself  with  wonder  at  the  movements  of  craft  so 
much  more  powerful  than  anything  to  which  the 
little  river  of  San  Antonio  had  trained  her.  As  the 
sun  rose  higher  the  seamen  improvised  an  awning. 
The  current  of  the  river,  such  as  it  was,  aided  them ; 
and  before  two  o'clock  the  little  party  was  on  the 
deck  of  the  "  Firefly  "  in  the  offing. 

Nothing  is  prettier  than  the  eagerness  of  self- 
surrender  with  which  naval  officers  always  receive 
women  on  their  ships.  The  chivalry  of  a  gentleman, 
the  homesickness  of  an  exile,  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
host,  —  all  unite  to  welcome  those  whose  presence 
is  so  rare  that  they  are  made  all  the  more  comfort- 
able because  there  is  no  provision  for  them  in  a  state 
of  nature.  In  this  case  the  gentlemen  had  had  some 
days'  notice  that  the  ladies  might  be  expected. 

It  was  clear  that  Lonsdale  was  quite  at  home 
among  them,  and  was  a  favorite.  Even  the  old  salts 
who  stood  at  the  gangway  smiled  approval  of  him  as 
he  stepped  on  board.  He  presented  young  Drapier 
and  Clerk,  the  two  lieutenants  who  held  the  first  and 
second  rank;  and  then,  with  careful  impartiality,  the 
group  of  midshipmen  who  stood  behind.  Then  he 
spoke  to  every  one  of  them  separately.  "  Good  news 
from  home,  Bob?  Mr.  Anson,  I  hope  the  admiral  is 
well;  and  how  is  your  excellent  father,  Mr.  Pigot?" 
A  moment  more,  and  a  bronzed,  black-browed  man, 
in  a  military  undress,  came  out  from  the  companion. 
He  smiled  as  he  gave  his  hand  to  Lonsdale,  who 
owned  his  surprise  at  meeting  him. 


3 1 8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"  Miss  Perry,"  said  he  at  once,  "  here  is  one  friend 
more,  whom  you  have  heard  of  but  never  seen.  One 
never  knows  where  to  look  for  the  general,"  he  said, 
laughing,  "  or  I  also  should  be  surprised.  Let  me 
present  to  you  General  Bowles,  Miss  Perry.  Miss 
Inez,  this  is  General  Bowles,  —  I  think  I  might  say 
a  friend  of  your  father's." 

This  extraordinary  man  smiled  good-naturedly, 
and  said,  — 

"  Yes,  a  countryman  of  yours  and  of  your  brother's, 
Miss  Perry;  and  all  countrymen  are  friends.  The 
people  in  Orleans  do  not  love  me  as  well  as  I  love 
the  Americans  who  live  among  them," 

Eunice  was  not  disposed  to  be  critical.  "  Mr. 
Lonsdale  is  very  kind ;  and  I  am  sure  we  poor  wan- 
dering damsels  are  indebted  to  all  these  gentlemen 
for  their  welcome,"  said  she.  She  had  learned  long 
since,  that  in  times  like  hers,  and  in  such  surround- 
ings, she  must  not  discriminate  too  closely  as  to  the 
antecedents  of  those  with  whom  she  had  to  do.  Inez 
could  afford  to  have  "hates"  and  "instincts,"  like 
most  young  ladies  of  her  age.  But  Eunice  had 
passed  thirty,  and  was  willing  to  accept  service 
from  Galaor,  if  by  ill  luck  she  could  not  com- 
mand the  help  of  Amadis.  The  truth  was,  that  Gen- 
eral Bowles  had  been  known  to  her  only  as  a  chief 
of  marauding  Highlanders  might  have  been  known 
to  a  lady  of  Edinburgh.  For  many  years  he  had 
been,  in  the  Spanish  wars  against  England,  the  daring 
commander  of  the  savage  allies  of  the  English.  He 
was  her  countryman,  because  he  was  born  in  Mary- 
land. But,  as  soon  as  General  Howe  came  to  Phila- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  3 1 9 

delphia,  Bowles  had  enlisted  as  a  boy  in  the  British 
army.  It  was  after  the  most  wild  life  that  ever  an 
adventurer  led,  —  now  in  dungeons  and  now  in 
palaces,  —  that  she  met  him  on  the  deck  of  an 
English  cutter. 

His  eye  fell  upon  Inez  with  the  undisguised  admi- 
ration with  which  men  were  apt  to  look  on  Inez. 
When  he  was  presented  to  Ma-ry  in  turn,  he  was 
quick  enough  to  recognize  —  he  hardly  could  have 
told  how  —  something  of  the  savage  training  of  this 
girl.  She  looked  as  steadily  into  his  eye  as  he  into 
hers.  Compliment  came  into  conversation  with  less 
disguise  in  those  days  than  in  these ;  and  so  the 
general  did  not  hesitate  to  say,  — 

"  But  for  that  rich  bloom,  Miss  Ma-ry,  upon  your 
cheek,  I  should  have  been  glad  to  claim  you  as  the 
daughter  of  a  chief,  —  a  chief  among  men  who  have 
not  known  how  to  write  treaties,  nor  to  break 
them." 

Ma-ry  probably  did  not  follow  his  stately  and 
affected  sentence. 

"  My  name  on  the  prairies  is  the  White  Hawk/' 
said  she  simply. 

"  Well  named, "  cried  Bowles;  and  he  looked  to 
Eunice  for  an  explanation,  which  of  course  she 
quickly  gave.  The  passage  was  instantaneous,  as 
among  the  group  of  courteous  gentlemen  the  ladies 
were  led  to  the  cabin  of  the  captain,  which  he  had 
relinquished  for  them;  but  it  was  the  beginning  of 
long  conferences  between  General  Bowles  and  the 
White  Hawk,  in  which,  with  more  skill  than  Eunice 
had  done,  or  even  Harrod,  he  traced  out  her  scanty 


320  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

recollection  of  what  her  mother  had  told  her  of  the 
life  to  which  she  was  born. 

The  stiffness  of  the  reception  and  welcome  of  the 
ladies  was  broken,  and  all  conversation  for  the  mo- 
ment was  made  impossible,  by  the  escape  of  two  pets 
of  the  girls,  from  the  arms  of  a  sailor,  who  had  at- 
tempted to  bring  them  up  the  ladder.  They  were 
Chihuahua  dogs,  —  pretty  little  creatures  of  the  very 
smallest  of  the  dog  race,  —  which  Lonsdale  had  pre- 
sented when  he  had  returned  to  San  Antonio,  as 
one  of  the  steps,  perhaps,  by  which  he  might  work 
into  Inez's  variable  favor.  The  little  things  found 
their  feet  on  deck,  and  dashed  about  among  swivels, 
cat-heads,  casks,  and  other  furniture,  in  a  way  which 
delighted  the  midshipmen,  confounded  the  old  sea- 
men, and  set  both  the  girls  screaming  with  laughter. 
After  such  an  adventure,  and  the  recapture  of  Trip 
and  Skip,  formality  was  impossible ;  and,  when  the 
ladies  disappeared  into  Lieutenant  Drapier's  hospi- 
table quarters,  all  parties  had  the  ease  of  manner 
of  old  friends. 

Ransom,  with  his  own  sure  tact,  and  under  the  law 
of  "natural  selection," — which  was  true  before  Dr. 
Darwin  was  born,  —  found  his  way  at  once  into  the 
company  of  the  warrant-officers.  Indeed,  he  might 
be  well  described  by  calling  him  a  sort  of  warrant- 
officer,  which  means  a  man  who  takes  much  of  the 
work  and  much  of  the  responsibility  of  this  world,  and 
yet  has  very  little  of  the  honor.  As  the  men  hauled 
up  the  little  anchor,  and  got  the  boats  on  board,  after 
Ransom  had  seen  his  share  of  luggage  of  the  party 
fairly  secured,  an  old  sailor's  habits  came  over  him; 


or,  Show  your  Passports  321 

and  he  could  hardly  help,  although  a  visitor,  lending 
a  hand. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  been  on  the  deck 
of  an  English  man-of-war;  but  never  before  had  he 
been  there  as  a  distinguished  visitor.  He  also,  like 
his  mistress,  if  Eunice  were  his  mistress,  knew  how  to 
conquer  his  prejudices.  And,  indeed,  the  order  and 
precision  of  man-of-war's-man's  style,  after  the  slack- 
ness, indolence,  and  disobedience  of  the  Greasers, 
was  joy  to  his  heart.  He  could  almost  have  found  it 
in  him  to  exempt  these  neat  English  tars  from  the 
general  doom  which  would  fall  on  all  "  furriners." 
At  the  least,  they  could  not  speak  French,  Spanish, 
or  Choctaw;  and  with  this  old  quartermaster  who 
offered  him  a  lighted  pipe,  and  with  the  boatswain 
who  gave  him  a  tough  tarred  hand,  he  could  indulge 
in  the  vernacular. 

Hardly  were  these  three  mates  established  in  a 
comfortable  nook  forward  under  the  shade  of  the  fore- 
sail, when  an  older  man  than  the  other  Englishman 
presented  himself,  and  tipped  his  hat  to  Ransom 
respectfully  in  a  somewhat  shamefaced  fashion. 

The  old  man  looked  his  surprise,  and  relieved  the 
other's  doubts  by  giving  him  a  hard  hand-grip 
cordially. 

"  Why,  Ben,  boy,  be  ye  here?  Where  did  ye  turn 
up  from  ?  " 

The  man  said  he  enlisted  in  Jamaica  two  years 
before. 

"Jes  so,  the  old  story.  Can't  teach  an  old  dog 
new  tricks.  Have  some  tobaccy,  Ben?  Perhaps  all 
on  ye  will  like  to  try  the  Greasers'  tobaccy.  Et  's  the 


322  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

only  thing  they  's  got  that 's  good  for  anything,  et 
is."  And  he  administered  enormous  plugs  of  the 
Mexican  tobacco  to  each  of  his  comrades,  neither 
of  whom  was  averse  to  a  new  experiment  in  that 
line. 

"  Woll,  Ben,  et's  a  good  many  years  since  I  see  ye. 
See  ye  last  the  day  Count  Dystang  sailed  out  o' 
Bostin  Harbor.  Guess  ye  did  n't  go  aloft  much  that 
v'y'ge,  Ben?  " 

The  other  laughed,  and  intimated  that  people  did 
not  go  aloft  easily  when  they  had  handcuffs  on.  The 
truth  was,  he  had  been  a  prisoner  of  war,  and,  under 
some  arrangements  made  by  the  Committee  of  Safety, 
had  been  transferred  to  the  French  admiral's  care. 

"  'N'  when  did  ye  see  Mr.  Conolly,  Ben?  "  asked 
Ransom,  with  a  patronizing  air. 

The  man  said  Mr.  Conolly  had  never  forgotten  him, 
that  "  he  was  good  to  him,"  as  his  phrase  was,  and 
got  him  exchanged  from  the  French  fleet.  But  Mr. 
Conolly  afterward  went  to  Canada;  and  Ben  had 
never  heard  from  him  again. 

"  I  Ve  heerd  on  him  often,"  said  Ransom,  with  his 
eyes  twinkling :  "  Guv'nor  o'  Kannydy  sent  him  down 
here  to  spy  out  the  country.  Thort  they  wa'n't  no 
rope  to  hang  him  with,  he  did :  did  n't  know  where 
hemp  grew.  Down  comes  Conolly,  and  he  sees  the 
gineral,  that's  Wilkinson,  up  river;  'n' he  tells  the 
gineral,  and  all  the  ginerals,  they  'd  better  fight  for 
King  George,  he  does,  'n'  that  the  king's  pay  was 
better  nor  Gineral  Washington's.  Darned  fool,  he 
was.  Gineral  Wilkinson  fooled  him.  Major  Dunn 
fooled  him,  all  on  um  fooled  him.  Thought  he'd 


or,  Show  your  Passports  323 

bought  um  all  out,  he  did !  "  and  Ransom  chuckled 
in  his  happiest  mood;  "thought  he'd  bought  um; 
V  jest  then  in  come  a  wild  fellow,  —  hunter,  —  'n'  he 
asked  where  the  English  kurnel  was,  he  did,  'n1  he 
says  the  redskins  'n1  the  English  'd  killed  his  father  'n' 
mother;  'n'  he  says  he'll  have  the  kurnel's  scalp  to 
pay  for  it;  'n'  after  he  hollered  round  some  time,  old 
Wilkinson  he  put  him  in  irons,  'n'  sent  him  away;  'n' 
then  the  kurnel  —  Gonolly  —  he  took  on  so,  'n'  was 
so  afeerd  he  'd  be  scalped,  that  he  asked  the  gineral 
for  an  escort,  he  did,  'n'  so  he  went  home.  Gineral 
gin  the  hunter  a  gallon  o'  whiskey,  'n'  five  pounds 
of  powder,  to  come  in  there  'n'  holler  round  so." 

And  old  Ransom  contemplated  the  sky,  in  silent 
approval  of  the  deceit.  After  a  pause  he  said, — 

"  They  wus  some  on  um  over  there  among  the 
Greasers,  though  this  man  was  Colonel  Conolly " 
(pause  again).  "  They  did  n't  ask  me,  'n'  I  did  n't 
tell  um.  I  knew  better.  I  see  Conolly  when  I  see  you 
fust,  Ben"  (grim  smile),  "when  we  put  the  irons 
on  you  aboard  the  '  Cerberus '  'fore  she  went  down. 
I  knew  Conolly."  Another  pause;  then,  somewhat 
tentatively,  — 

"  This  man  I  never  see  before ;  but  he  knows  how 
to  saddle  his  own  horse,  he  does ;  "  this  in  approval, 
Lonsdale  being  "  this  man  "  referred  to. 

The  others  said  that  they  took  "this  man"  into 
Vera  Cruz  the  winter  before,  with  his  servants.  The 
talk  of  the  "  Firefly  "  was,  that  while  they  had  been 
sounding  in  Corpus  Christi  Bay  they  had  been  wait- 
ing for  him.  Who  he  was,  they  did  not  know,  but 
believed  he  was  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  or  may- 


324  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

be  a  son  of  Lord  Anson,  or  perhaps  of  some  other 
grandee. 

"  Ye  don't  think  he 's  that  one  that  was  at  New 
York,  do  you?  "  said  Ransom.  "  I  mean  the  Juke, 
they  called  him  —  old  king's  son.  I  come  mighty 
near  carrying  him  off  myself  one  night,  in  a  whale- 
boat." 

The  men  showed  little  indignation  at  this  allusion 
to  Royal  William,  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  — "  by 
England's  navy  all  adored,"  though  that  gentle- 
man was  said  to  be.  But  they  expressed  doubts, 
though  no  one  knew,  whether  Mr.  Lonsdale  were 
he.  If  he  were,  the  midshipmen  were  either  ig- 
norant or  bold;  for,  when  Inez  compelled  them  to 
sing  that  evening  they  sang  rapturously, — 

"  When  Royal  William  comes  on  board, 
By  England's  navy  all  adored, 
To  him  I  sometimes  pass  the  word, 
For  I  'm  a  smart  young  midshipman." 

The  White  Hawk  proved  a  better  sailor  than 
Eunice  had  dared  to  hope.  Her  wonder  at  what 
seemed  to  her  the  immense  size  of  the  little  vessel, 
and  at  all  its  equipment  and  movement,  was  a  delight 
to  Inez  and  even  to  the  less  demonstrative  Ransom. 
The  young  gentlemen  were  divided  in  their  en- 
thusiastic attentions  to  these  charming  girls,  and  the 
three  or  four  days  of  their  little  voyage  were  all  too 
short  for  the  youngsters;  when,  with  a  fresh  north- 
west breeze,  they  entered  the  southwestern  mouths 
of  the  great  Mississippi  River,  and  so  long  as  this 
breeze  served  them  held  on  to  the  main  current 


or,  Show  your  Passports  325 

\ 
of  the  stream.     For  that  current  itself,   the  breeze 

was  dead  ahead,  and  so  the  "Firefly"  came  again 
to  an  anchor,  to  the  grief  of  the  ladies  more  than 
of  their  young  admirers. 

Eunice  Perry  and  her  "  doves "  had  retired  to 
dress  for  dinner,  when,  from  a  French  brig  which 
was  at  anchor  hard  by,  a  boat  was  dropped,  which 
pulled  hastily  across  to  the  Englishman.  In  these 
neutral  waters  there  was  no  danger  in  any  event, 
but  a  white  handkerchief  fluttered  at  her  bow.  A 
handsome  young  man  in  a  French  uniform  ran  up 
on  the  "  Firefly's "  deck.  He  spoke  a  word  to 
Captain  Drapier,  but  hardly  more;  for,  as  they 
exchanged  the  first  civilities,  Eunice  and  Inez  rushed 
forward  from  the  companion,  and  Inez's  arms  were 
around  his  neck. 

"  My  dear,  dear  brother !  " 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

HOME   AS   FOUND 

"And  I  will  see  before  I  die 
The  palms  and  temples  of  the  South." 

TENNYSON. 

"Is  it  not  perfectly  lovely?"  said  Inez  to  her 
brother,  as  she  ran  ashore  over  the  little  plank 
laid  for  a  gangway.  "  Is  it  not  perfectly  lovely?" 
And  she  flung  her  arms  about  him,  and  kissed 
him,  as  her  best  way  of  showing  her  delight  that 
she  and  he  were  both  at  home. 


326  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"  You  are,  pussy,"  said  Roland,  receiving  the 
caress  with  as  much  enthusiasm  as  she  gave  it  with; 
"  and  so  is  the  White  Hawk,  whom  I  will  never 
call  Ma-ry;  and  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  and 
not  to  quarrel  with  you  the  first  morning  of  home, 
dear  old  Orleans  is  not  an  unfit  setting  for  such 
jewels.  Oh,  dear !  how  good  it  is  to  be  at  home  ! " 

The  young  officer  seemed  as  young  as  Inez  in  his 
content;  and  Inez  forgot  her  trials  for  the  minute, 
in  the  joy  of  having  him,  of  hearing  him,  and  seeing 
him. 

So  soon  as  Mr.  Perry  had  understood  the  happy 
meeting  at  the  river's  mouth,  he  also  had  boarded 
the  "  Firefly."  Matters  had  indeed  fallen  out  better 
than  even  he  had  planned ;  and  the  embarkation 
planned  in  grief  by  Eunice,  and  in  what  seemed 
loyalty  by  Mr.  Lonsdale,  proved  just  what  all  would 
have  most  desired.  Mr.  Perry  had  the  pleasure  of 
announcing  to  Lieutenant  Drapier  and  the  other 
English  officers  peace  between  England  and  France. 
They  had  heard  of  the  hopes  of  this,  but  till  now  the 
announcement  had  lingered.  At  the  little  dinner  im- 
provised on  the  deck  of  the  "  Firefly,"  many  toasts 
were  drunk  to  the  eternal  peace  of  England  and 
France ;  but,  alas  !  the  winds  seem  to  have  dispersed 
them  before  they  arrived  at  any  mint  which  stamped 
them  for  permanent  circulation. 

With  all  due  courtesies,  Mr.  Perry  had  then  taken 
his  own  family  on  board  the  "  Antoinette,"  a  little 
brig  which  he  had  chartered  at  Bordeaux,  that 
he  might  himself  bring  out  this  news.  Of  course 
he  begged  Mr.  Lonsdale  to  join  them  as  soon  as 


or,  Show  your  Passports  327 

he  knew  that  that  gentleman's  plan  of  travel  was 
to  take  him  to  Orleans.  Drapier  and  Clerk  mani- 
fested some  surprise  when  they  learned  of  this 
plan  of  travel,  as  they  had  supposed  the  "  Firefly " 
was  to  take  him  to  Jamaica.  They  learned  now, 
for  the  first  time,  that  Lonsdale  had  errands  at 
Fort  Massac  and  the  falls  of  the  Ohio  and  Fort 
Washington.  The  young  officers  looked  quizzically 
at  each  other  behind  his  back,  as  if  to  ask  how 
long  he  might  be  detained  at  Orleans.  But  who- 
ever Lonsdale  was,  and  however  good  a  friend  he 
was,  they  did  not  dare  to  talk  banter  to  him,  — 
as  Miss  Inez  and  as  Ransom  did  not  fail  to  observe. 

So  with  long  farewells,  and  promises  to  meet 
again,  the  two  vessels  parted.  General  Bowles  said 
to  Eunice,  as  he  bade  them  good-by,  that  he  was 
the  only  person  on  board  the  "  Firefly "  who  was 
not  raging  with  indignation  at  the  change  of  plans. 
"The  middies  are  beside  themselves,"  he  said. 
"  So,  indeed,  am  I ;  but  my  grief  is  a  little  as- 
suaged by  the  recollection  that  Governor  Salcedo 
would  hang  me  in  irons  in  fifteen  minutes  after  the 
'Firefly*  arrived.  True,  this  is  a  trifling  price  to 
pay  for  the  pleasure  of  sailing  along  the  coast  with 
three  charming  ladies ;  but  if  I  do  not  pay  it,  I 
have  the  better  chance  to  see  them  again." 

"  And  also,"  he  added  more  gravely,  "  I  have  the 
better  chance  to  learn  something  of  this  Apache 
raid  in  which  your  interesting  charge  was  carried 
from  home,  of  which,  Miss  Perry,  I  will  certainly 
inform  you/' 

The  "Antoinette"  had  slowly  worked  her  way  up 


328  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

the  stream.  At  nightfall,  on  the  second  night,  she 
was  still  thirty  miles  from  the  city.  But,  as  the  sun 
rose  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  Roland  had 
tapped  at  the  door  of  the  ladies'  cabin,  and  had  told 
them  that  they  were  at  the  levee  in  front  of  the  town. 
Of  course  Inez  and  Ma-ry  were  ready  for  action  in  a 
very  few  moments ;  and,  as  Roland  waited  eager  for 
them,  they  joined  him  for  a  little  ramble,  in  which 
Inez  should  see  his  delight  as  he  came  home,  and 
both  of  them  should  see  Ma-ry's  wonder. 

It  is  hard  even  for  the  resident  in  New  Orleans 
of  to-day  to  carry  himself  back  to  the  little  fortified 
town  which  Inez  so  rejoiced  to  see.  As  it  happens, 
we  have  the  ill-tempered  narrative  which  a  Monsieur 
Duvallar,  a  cockney  Parisian,  gave,  at  just  the  same 
time,  of  his  first  impressions.  But  he  saw  as  a 
seasick  Frenchman  eager  to  see  the  streets  of  Paris 
sees:  Inez  saw  as  a  happy  girl  sees,  who  from  her 
first  wanderings  returns  home  with  so  much  that  she 
loves  best.  The  first  wonder  to  be  seen  was  a 
wonder  to  Inez  as  to  the  others:  it  was  the  first 
vessel  ever  built  in  Ohio  to  go  to  sea.  She  lay  in 
the  stream,  proudly  carrying  the  American  colors  at 
each  peak,  and  was  the  marvel  of  the  hour.  But  Inez 
cared  little  for  schooners,  brigs,  or  ships. 

She  hurried  her  brother  to  the  Place  d'Armes,  which 
separated  the  river  from  two  buildings,  almost  Moorish 
in  their  look,  which  were  the  public  offices,  and  which 
were  separated  by  the  quaint  cathedral,  —  another  bit 
of  Old  Spain.  Over  wooden  walks,  laid  upon  the 
clay  of  the  banquette  or  sidewalk,  she  hurried  him 
through  one  and  another  narrow  street,  made  up  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  329 

square  wooden  houses,  never  more  than  a  story  high, 
and  always  offering  a  veranda  or  " galerie"  to  the 
street  front.  Between  the  banquette  and  the  roadway, 
a  deep  gutter,  neatly  built,  gave  room  for  a  little 
brook,  if  one  of  the  pitiless  rains  of  the  country 
happened  to  flood  the  town.  Little  bridges  across 
these  gutters,  made  by  the  elongation  of  the  wooden 
walks,  required,  at  each  street-crossing,  a  moment's 
care  on  the  part  of  the  passenger.  All  this,  to  the 
happy  Inez,  was  of  course ;  to  the  watchful  White 
Hawk,  was  amazement;  and  to  Roland  all  was  sur- 
prise, that  in  so  many  thousand  details  he  had  for- 
gotten how  the  home  of  his  childhood  differed  from 
the  Paris  of  his  manly  life.  The  fine  fellow  chattered 
as  Inez  chattered,  explained  to  the  White  Hawk  as 
he  thought  she  needed,  and  was  every  whit  as  happy 
as  Inez  wanted  him  to  be.  "  There  is  dear  Monsieur 
Le  Bourgeois.  He  does  not  see  us.  Monsieur! 
Monsieur!  You  have  not  forgotten  us,  have  you? 
Here  is  little  Inez  back  again.  And  how  are  they  at 
Belmont?  Give  ever  so  much  love  to  them  !  "  And 
then,  as  she  ran  on,  "  And  there  is  Jean  Audubon ! 
Jean,  Jean !  "  and  when  the  handsome  young  fellow 
crossed  the  street,  and  gave  her  both  hands,  "  Oh,  I 
have  such  beautiful  heron's  wings  for  you  from  An- 
tonio ;  and  Ransom  has  put  up  two  nice  chapparal 
birds  for  you,  and  a  crane.  I  made  Major  Barelo 
shoot  him  for  me.  And,  Jean !  did  you  ever  see  a 
Chihuahua  dog?  Ma-ry  and  I  have  two,  —  the  pret- 
tiest creatures  you  ever  did  see.  This  is  Ma-ry,  Mr. 
Audubon.  —  How  do  you  do,  Madame  Fourchet? 
We  are  all  very  well,  I  thank  you." 


330  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

So  they  walked  back  from  the  river,  —  not  many 
squares:  the  houses  were  farther  and  farther  apart; 
and  at  last  a  long  fence,  made  of  cypress  boards 
roughly  split,  and  higher  than  their  heads,  parted 
them  from  a  garden  of  trees  and  shrubs  blazing  with 
color  and  with  fruit.  The  fence  ran  along  the  whole 
square ;  and  now  the  little  Inez  fairly  flew  along  the 
banquette  till  she  came  to  a  gateway  which  gave  pas- 
sage into  the  garden.  Here  she  instantly  struck  a 
bell  which  hung  just  within  the  fence;  and  there, 
protected  by  a  rough  shelter,  —  a  sort  of  wooden 
awning,  arranged  for  the  chance  of  rain,  —  she 
jumped  with  impatience  as  she  waited  for  the  others 
to  arrive,  and  for  some  one  within  to  open.  She  had 
not  to  wait  long.  In  a  minute  Ransom  flung  the  gate 
open,  and  the  girl  stood  within  the  garden  of  her 
father's  house.  The  old  man  had  landed  long  before 
them,  and  had  come  up  to  the  house  to  satisfy  him- 
self that  all  was  fit  for  the  family  and  its  guests. 

"  Come,  Ma-ry,  come !  "  cried  Inez,  as  she  dashed 
along  a  winding  brick  alley,  between  palm-trees  and 
roses,  and  myrtles  and  bananas,  oranges  in  fruit, 
great  masses  of  magnolia  cones  beginning  to  grow 
red,  and  the  thousand  other  wonders  of  a  well-kept 
garden  in  this  most  beautiful  of  cities,  in  a  climate 
which  is  both  temperate  and  tropical  at  one  time. 
"  Oh,  come,  Ma-ry  !  do  come,  Roland  !  Welcome 
home  !  welcome  home  !  " 

She  dashed  up  the  broad  high  steps  of  the  pretty 
house,  to  a  broad  veranda,  or  "  gallery/'  near  twelve 
feet  deep,  which  surrounded  it  on  every  side.  Doors 
flung  wide  open  gave  entrance  to  a  wide  hall  which 


or,  Show  your  Passports  331 

ran  quite  through  the  house,  a  double  door  of 
Venetian  blind  closing  the  hall  at  the  other  end. 

On  either  side,  large  doors  opened  into  very  high 
rooms,  the  floors  of  which,  of  a  shining  cypress  wood, 
were  covered  in  the  middle  by  mats  and  carpets. 
The  shade  of  the  "  gallery "  was  sufficient  in  every 
instance  to  keep  even  the  morning  sunlight  of  that 
early  hour  from  the  rooms.  Ransom's  forethought 
and  that  of  a  dozen  negro  servants  who  were  waiting 
to  welcome  her,  had  already  made  the  rooms  gor- 
geous with  flowers. 

The  happy  girl  had  a  word  for  every  Chloe  and 
Miranda  and  Zenon  and  Antoine  of  all  the  waiting 
group ;  and  then  she  was  beside  herself  as  she  tried 
at  once  to  enjoy  Roland's  satisfaction,  and  to  in- 
troduce Ma-ry  to  her  new  home.  It  was  impossible 
to  be  disappointed.  Roland  was  as  well  pleased  and 
as  happy  as  she  could  wish ;  and,  because  she  was 
so  happy,  the  White  Hawk  was  happy  too. 

"  See,  Roland,  here  is  the  picture  of  Madame 
Josephine  you  sent  us.  And  here  is  your  great  First 
Consul ;  and  very  handsome  he  is  too,  though  he  is 
so  stern.  I  should  think  Madame  Bonaparte  would 
be  afraid  of  him.  See,  I  hung  them  here.  Papa  had 
hung  them  just  the  other  way,  and  you  see  they 
looked  away  from  each  other.  But  I  told  him  that 
would  never  do:  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  been 
quarrelling." 

"  Madame's  picture  is  not  good  enough,  as  I  told 
you  when  I  sent  it.  The  General's  is  better.  But 
nothing  gives  his  charming  smile.  You  must  make 
papa  tell  you  of  that.  I  wish  we  had  Eugene's.  If 


332  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

he  becomes  the  great  general  he  means  to  be,  we 
shall  have  his  picture  engraved  and  framed  by  the 
general's  side." 

"  Oh !  there  are  to  be  no  more  wars,  you  know. 
Eugene  will  be  a  planter,  and  raise  sugar,  as  his  father 
did.  We  shall  never  hear  of  General  Beauharnais 
again." 

And  then  she  had  to  take  Ma-ry  into  her  own 
room,  and  show  her  all  the  arrangements  in  which  a 
young  girl  delights.  And  Ransom  was  made  happy 
by  seeing  Mr.  Roland  again  at  home.  And  these 
joys  of  a  beginning  were  not  well  over  before  the  car- 
riage arrived  from  the  "  Antoinette,"  with  the  more 
mature  elders  of  the  party,  who  had  not  been  above 
taking  things  easily,  and  riding  from  the  levee  to  the 
house. 

But  it  was  impossible  not  to  see  at  breakfast  that 
Mr.  Perry  was  silent  and  sad,  in  the  midst  of  all  his 
effort  to  be  hospitable  to  Mr.  Lonsdale,  and  to  make 
his  son's  return  cheerful.  And  at  last,  when  break- 
fast was  over,  he  said  frankly,  "  We  are  all  so  far 
friends,  that  I  may  as  well  tell  you  what  has  grieved 
me.  Panton  came  on  board  as  we  left  the  vessel. 

"  He  tells  me  that  this  horrid  business  yonder  has 
been  too  much  for  the  poor  girl." 

Inez's  face  was  as  pale  as  a  sheet.  She  had  never 
spoken  to  her  father  of  the  beautiful  lady  whose 
picture  Philip  Nolan  had  showed  her.  She  had 
always  supposed  that  there  was  a  certain  confidence 
or  privacy  about  his  marriage  to  Fanny  Lintot ;  and, 
as  the  reader  knows,  not  even  to  Eunice  had  she 
whispered  it  before  they  heard  of  his  death.  But 


or,  Show  your  Passports  333 

now  it  was  clear  that  her  father  knew ;  and  he  knew 
more  than  she  knew. 

"Yes,"  continued  Mr.  Perry.  "There  is  a  child 
who  will  never  remember  his  father  and  mother. 
But  this  pretty  Fanny  Lintot,  not  even  the  child 
could  keep  her  alive.  '  What  should  I  wish  to  live 
for?  '  the  poor  child  said.  '  I  shall  never  know  what 
happiness  is  in  this  world.  I  did  not  think  I  should 
be  so  fortunate  as  to  join  my  dear  Phil  so  soon.' 
And  so  she  joined  him."  , 

Poor  Inez !  She  could  not  bear  this.  She  ran 
out  of  the  room,  and  the  White  Hawk  followed  her. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

"  Who  saw  the  Duke  of  Clarence  ?  " 

Henry  IV. 

"  AUNT  EUNICE,"  said  Roland,  with  all  his  own  im- 
petuosity, when  they  had  all  met  for  dinner,  "  there 
is  no  such  soup  as  a  gumbo  file',  —  no,  not  at  Mal- 
maison.  Crede  experto,  which  means,  my  dear  aunt, 
1 1  know  what  I  am  talking  about1  And,  as  Madame 
Casa  Calvo  is  not  here,  you  may  help  me  again." 

"  Dear  Roland,  I  will  help  you  twenty  times,"  said 
his  aunt,  who  was  as  fond  of  him  as  his  mother  would 
have  been,  and,  indeed,  quite  as  proud.  "  I  am  glad 
we  can  hold  our  own  with  Malmaison  in  anything." 

"  We  beat  Malmaison  in  many  things.  We  beat 
Malmaison  in  roses,  though  Mademoiselle  Hortense 
has  given  me  a  '  Souvenir '  from  there,  before  which 
old  Narcissewill  bow  down  in  worship.  But  we  have 
more  than  roses.  We  beat  Malmaison  in  pretty 


334  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

girls,"  this  with  a  mock  bow  to  the  White  Hawk  and 
to  Inez ;  "  and  we  beat  her  in  gumbo." 

"  How  is  it  in  soldiers,  Mr.  Perry?"  said  Mr.  Lons- 
dale,  with  some  real  curiosity.  "  And  is  it  true  that 
we  are  to  see  the  renowned  General  Victor  here  with 
an  army?  " 

"That  you  must  ask  my  father,"  said  the  young 
fellow  boldly.  "  He  is  the  diplomatist  of  the  family. 
I  dare  say  he  has  settled  it  all  with  Madame  Jose- 
phine, while  I  was  obtaining  from  Mademoiselle 
Hortense  some  necessary  directions  about  the  dress- 
ing of  my  sister's  hair.  —  My  dear  Inez,  it  is  to  be 
cut  short  in  front,  above  the  eyebrows,  and  to  flow 
loosely  behind,  a  la  Naiade  affranchie" 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Inez.  "  Did  not  Mademoiselle 
Hortense  tell  you  that  ears  were  to  be  worn  boxed 
on  the  right  side  and  cuffed  on  the  left?  She  was 
too  kind  to  your  impudence." 

"  She  made  many  inquiries  regarding  yours.  And, 
dear  Aunt  Eunice,  she  asked  me  many  questions 
which  I  could  not  answer.  Now  that  I  arrive  upon 
the  Father  of  Waters,  I  am  prudent  and  docile.  I 
whisper  no  word  which  may  awake  the  proud  Span- 
iard against  the  hasty  Gaul  or  the  neutral  American. 
I  reveal  no  secret,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  in  the  presence  of 
the  taciturn  Briton :  all  the  same  I  look  on  and 
wonder.  The  only  place  for  my  inquiries  —  where  I 
can  at  once  show  my  modesty  and  my  ignorance  — 
is  at  the  hospitable  board  of  Miss  Eunice  Perry. 
She  soothes  me  with  gumbo  file",  she  bribes  me  with 
red-fish  and  pompano  ;  in  the  distance  I  see  cotelettes 
and  vol-au-vents,  and  I  know  not  what  else,  which 


or,  Show  your  Passports  335 

she  has  prepared  to  purchase  my  silence.  All  the 
same,  I  throw  myself  at  the  feet  of  this  company, 
own  my  gross  ignorance,  and  ask  for  light. 

"  Let  me,  dear  Mr.  Lonsdale,  answer  your  ques- 
tion as  I  can.  Many  generals  have  I  met,  in  battle, 
in  camp,  or  in  the  ballroom.  General  Bonaparte  is 
my  protector;  General  Moreau  examined  me  in 
tactics ;  General  Casa  Bianca  is  my  friend ;  General 
Hamilton  is  my  distinguished  countryman.  But 
who,  my  dear  Aunt  Eunice,  is  General  Bowles?  and 
of  what  nation  was  the  somewhat  remarkable  uniform 
which  he  wore  the  day  I  had  the  honor  to  meet  you, 
and  to  assure  you  that  you  had  grown  young  under 
your  anxieties  for  your  nephew?" 

Now,  if  there  were  a  subject  which  Eunice  would 
have  wished  them  to  avoid  at  that  moment,  it  was 
the  subject  which  the  audacious  young  fellow  had 
introduced. 

In  spite  of  her,  her  face  flushed. 

"  He  served  against  the  Spaniards  at  Pensacola," 
said  she,  with  as  much  calmness  as  she  could  com- 
mand. Everybody  was  looking  at  her,  so  that  she 
could  not  signal  him  to  silence ;  and  Mr.  Lonsdale 
was  close  at  her  side,  so  that  he  heard  every  word. 

"A  countryman  of  yours,  Mr.  Lonsdale?  Where, 
then,  was  the  red  coat?  where  the  Star  and  Garter?" 

Lonsdale  was  not  quick  enough  to  follow  this 
badinage;  or  he  was  perhaps  as  much  annoyed  as 
Eunice,  that  the  subject  was  opened. 

"  General  Bowles  is  not  in  the  king's  service,"  he 
said ;  "  yet  he  is  well  thought  of  at  the  Foreign 
Office.  I  dined  with  him  at  Lord  Hawksbury 9s" 


336  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"At  Lord  Hawksbury's? "  said  Mr.  Perry,  sur- 
prised out  of  the  silence  he  had  maintained  all 
along. 

Lonsdale  certainly  was  annoyed  this  time,  and 
annoyed  at  his  own  carelessness;  for  he  would  not 
have  dropped  the  words,  had  he  had  a  moment  for 
thought.  His  face  flushed,  but  he  said, — 

"Yes.  It  was  rather  a  curious  party.  General 
Miranda  was  there,  who  means  to  free  Mexico  and 
Cuba  and  the  Spanish  main,  —  the  South  American 
Washington  of  the  future,  Miss  Inez.  This  General 
Bowles  was  there,  in  the  same  fanciful  uniform  he 
wears  to-day.  There  was  an  attach^  of  your  legation 
there,  I  forget  his  name ;  and  no  end  of  people  who 
spoke  no  English.  But  I  understood  that  General 
Bowles  was  an  American.  I  did  not  suppose  I 
should  be  the  person  to  introduce  him  to  you." 

"  Why  does  Lord  Hawksbury  ask  General  Bowles 
to  meet  General  Miranda,  sir?"  said  Roland,  turning 
to  his  father. 

"  Why  do  I  ask  an  /leve  of  the  ficole  Poly  technique 
to  meet  Mr.  Lonsdale?  —  Mr.  Lonsdale,  that  Bor- 
deaux wine  is  good ;  but,  if  you  hold  to  your  island 
prejudices,  Ransom  shall  bring  us  some  port  which 
my  own  agent  bought  in  Portugal." 

"  I  hold  by  the  claret,"  said  Lonsdale,  relieved,  as 
Roland  thought,  that  the  subject  was  at  an  end. 
Now,  Roland  had  no  thought  of  relieving  him.  If 
Englishmen  came  to  America,  he  meant  to  make 
them  show  their  colors. 

"  No  man  tells  me,"  he  said,  "  what  nation  that  is 
whose  major-generals  wear  green  frock-coats  cut  like 


or,  Show  your  Passports  337 

Robin  Hood's  with  wampum  embroidered  on  the 
cuffs.  I  am  only  told  that  this  unknown  nation  is  in 
alliance  with  King  George  and  General  Miranda." 

"  General  Bowles  is  the  chief  of  an  Indian  tribe 
in  this  region,  I  think,"  said  Lonsdale,  rather 
stiffly. 

"  Oho  !  "  cried  the  impetuous  young  fellow,  "  and 
the  Creeks  and  the  Greasers,  with  some  assistance 
from  Lord  Hawksbury  and  King  George,  are  to  drive 
the  King  of  Spain  out  of  Mexico.  Is  that  on  the 
cards,  Mr.  Lonsdale?" 

Lonsdale  looked  more  confused  than  ever. 

"  You  must  ask  your  father,  Mr.  Perry.  He  is  the 
diplomatist,  you  say." 

"  But  is  this  what  the  Governor  of  Canada  is 
bothering  about?  Is  this  what  he  sent  Chisholm  and 
Conolly  for,  sir?"  said  Roland,  turning  to  his  father. 
"  Not  so  bad  a  plot,  if  it  is." 

The  truth  is,  that  Roland's  head  was  turned  with 
the  military  atmosphere  in  which  he  had  lived  ;  and, 
like  half  the  youngsters  of  his  time,  he  hoped  that 
some  good  cause  might  open  up,  in  which  he,  too, 
could  win  spurs  and  glory. 

At  the  allusion  to  Chisholm  and  Conolly,  two 
secret  agents  of  the  Canadian  Government  in  the 
Valley  of  the  Mississippi,  Inez  turned  to  look  gravely 
upon  her  aunt.  As,  by  good  luck,  Mr.  Lonsdale's 
face  was  also  turned  toward  Eunice,  Inez  seized  the 
happy  opportunity  to  twirl  her  knife  as  a  chief  might 
his  scalping-knife.  Ma-ry  understood  no  little  of  the 
talk,  but  managed,  savage-like,  to  keep  her  reserve* 
Mr.  Perry  felt  his  son's  boldness,  and  was  troubled  by 


338  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

it.     He  knew  that  all  this  talk  must  be  annoying  to 
the  Englishman. 

"The  plot  was  a  very  foolish  plot,  Roland,  if  it 
were  such  a  plot  as  you  propose.  If  John  Adams 
had  been  chosen  president  again,  instead  of  this  man 
who  is  called  so  pacific,  —  if  some  things  had  not 
been  done  on  the  other  side  which  have  been  done, 
—  I  think  General  Hamilton  might  have  brought  a 
few  thousand  of  our  countrymen  down  the  river,  with 
General  Wilkinson  to  show  him  the  way.  Mr.  Lons- 
dale  can  tell  you  whether  Admiral  Nelson  would  have 
been  waiting  here  with  a  fleet;  they  do  say  there 
have  been  a  few  frigates  in  the  Gulf:  as  it  is,  all  I 
know  is,  that  fortunately  for  us  we  found  the  '  Firefly ' 
there.  Mr.  Lonsdale  knows,  perhaps,  whether  a  few 
regiments  from  Canada  might  not  have  joined  our 
men  in  the  excursion.  But  we  have  changed  all 
that,  my  boy;  and  you  must  take  your  tactics  and 
your  strategies  to  some  other  field  of  glory/1 

The  truth  was,  that  all  the  scheme  of  which  Mr. 
Perry  spoke  had  been  wrought  out  in  the  well-kept 
secrecy  of  John  Adams's  cabinet.  As  he  said  him- 
self once,  such  talent  as  he  had  was  for  making  war, 
more  than  for  making  peace. 

As  it  proved,  the  majestic  and  to  us  friendly  policy 
of  the  great  Napoleon  gave  us  Louisiana  without  a 
blow;  but  in  the  long  line  of  onslaughts  upon  Spain, 
which  the  United  States  have  had  to  do  with,  this 
was  the  first. 

The  first  Adams  is  the  historical  leader  of  the 
filibusters. 

Miss    Inez    did    not  care  a  great   deal   about   the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  339 

politics  of  the  conversation.  What  she  did  care  for 
was,  that  Lonsdale  appeared  to  be  uncomfortable. 
This  delighted  her.  Was  he  Chisholm?  was  he 
Conolly?  Her  father  had  hushed  up  Roland,  with  a 
purpose.  She  could  see  that.  But  she  did  not  see 
that  this  involved  any  cessation  in  that  guerilla  war 
with  which  he  persecuted  the  Englishman. 

"  That  must  have  been  a  very  interesting  party 
which  you  describe,  Mr.  Lonsdale.  Is  Lord  Hawks- 
bury  a  good  talker?  " 

"  Yes  —  hardly  —  no,  Miss  Perry.  He  talks  as 
most  of  those  men  in  office  do :  he  is  all  things  to 
all  men." 

"Was  the  Duke  of  Clarence  there ?"  said  Inez, 
with  one  bold,  wild  shot.  Since  Ransom  had  ex- 
pressed the  opinion  that  their  guest  was  this  gentle- 
man, Inez  was  determined  to  know. 

Lonsdale's  face  flushed  fire  this  time;  or  she 
thought  it  did. 

"  The  duke  was  there/'  he  said :  "  it  was  just 
before  he  sailed  for  Halifax." 

But  here  Eunice  came  to  his  relief.  She  looked 
daggers  at  the  impertinent  girl,  asked  Mr.  Lonsdale 
some  question  as  to  Lieutenant  Drapier,  and  Inez 
and  Roland  were  both  so  far  hushed  that  no  further 
secrets  of  state  were  discussed  on  that  occasion. 


34°  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

"  WHERE   SHALL   SHE   GO  ?  " 

"  From  her  infant  days, 
With  Wisdom,  mother  of  retired  thoughts, 
Her  soul  had  dwelt ;  and  she  was  quick  to  mark 
The  good  and  evil  thing,  in  human  lore 
Undisciplined." 

COLERIDGE. 

THE  White  Hawk  dropped  into  her  new  life  with  a 
simplicity  and  naturalness  which  delighted  every- 
body. From  the  beginning  Silas  Perry  was  charmed 
with  her.  It  was  not  that  he  tolerated  her  as  he 
would  have  tolerated  any  person  whom  Eunice  had 
thought  best  to  introduce  to  his  house :  it  was  that  by 
rapid  stages  he  began  by  liking  her,  then  was  fond  of 
her,  and  then  loved  her.  She  was  quite  mistress  of 
the  spoken  English,  so  much  so  that  Inez  began  to 
fear  that  she  would  lose  her  pretty  savage  idioms 
and  fascinating  blunders.  Indeed,  there  were  a  few 
Apache  phrases  which  Inez  insisted  on  retaining, 
with  some  slight  modifications,  in  their  daily  conver- 
sation. How  much  French  and  Spanish  the  girl 
understood,  nobody  but  herself  knew.  She  never 
spoke  in  either  language. 

It  would  be  almost  fair  to  say  that  Roland  taught 
her  more  than  Inez  did.  In  the  first  place,  he  taught 
Inez  a  good  deal  which  it  was  wrell  for  a  provincial 
girl —  a  girl  of  two  cities  as  petty  as  Orleans  and  San 
Antonio  —  to  learn,  if  she  could  learn  it  from  her 


or,Show  your  Passports  341 

brother,  seeing  her  life  had  been  so  much  restricted, 
and  her  outlook  so  much  circumscribed.  Roland  was 
quick  and  impulsive ;  so,  indeed,  was  the  White 
Hawk ;  but  he  was  always  patient  in  explaining  him- 
self to  her,  and  he  would  not  permit  Inez,  for  mere 
love's  sake  or  fancy's  sake,  to  overlook  little  sav- 
ageries, as  he  called  them,  in  the  girl's  habit  or  life, 
merely  because  they  seemed  pretty  to  her.  "  She  is 
an  American  girl,"  said  he :  "  by  the  grace  of  God 
you  have  rescued  her  from  these  devils,  and  she  shall 
never  be  annoyed  by  having  people  call  her  a  red- 
skin." And  never  had  teacher  a  quicker  pupil,  never 
had  Mentor  a  Telemachus  more  willing,  than  the 
White  Hawk  proved  to  be  under  the  grave  tutelage 
of  Inez  and  her  brother. 

These  pages,  which  are  transparent  as  truth  her- 
self, may  here  reveal  one  thing  more.  The  present 
reader,  also,  has  proved  herself  sharp-sighted  as 
Lynceus  since  she  engaged  in  reading  these  humble 
annals  of  the  past.  This  reader  has  observed,  there- 
fore, from  the  moment  the  "  Firefly  "  met  the  "  An- 
toinette "  in  the  South  Pass,  that  the  handsome 
young  American  gentleman  and  the  beautiful  girl 
rescued  from  captivity  were  placed  in  very  near  pro- 
pinquity to  each  other,  and  that  they  remained  so. 
The  author  has  not  for  a  moment  veiled  this  fact 
from  the  reader,  who  is,  indeed,  too  sharp-sighted  to 
be  trifled  with. 

It  is  now  to  be  stated  that  the  White  Hawk 
observed  it  quite  as  soon  as  the  reader  has  done. 
The  White  Hawk  maintained  a  very  simple  as  it  was 
a  very  intimate  and  sweet  relation  with  Roland  Perry 


342  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

whenever  she  and  he  were  with  Inez  and  Eunice,  or 
the  rest  of  the  group  which  daily  gathered  at  his 
father's.  But  the  White  Hawk  very  seldom  found 
herself  alone  with  Roland  Perry ;  and,  when  she  did, 
the  interview  was  a  very  short  one.  Roland  found 
himself  sometimes  retiring  early  from  the  counting- 
room,  wishing  that  she  might  be  in  the  way.  But 
she  never  was  in  the  way.  He  would  prepare  one 
and  another  expedition  to  the  lake,  to  the  plantation- 
house,  and  the  like.  On  such  expeditions  the  White 
Hawk  went  freely  if  the  whole  party  went;  but  not 
for  a  walk  or  ride  out  to  the  English  Turn,  did  she 
go  with  him  alone.  Roland  Perry  did  not  know 
whether  this  was  accident  or  no,  did  not  even  ask, 
perhaps.  But  it  is  as  well  that  this  reader  should 
understand  the  girl,  and  should  know  it  was  no  acci- 
dent at  all. 

One  day  they  had  all  gone  together  to  a  pretty 
meadow  by  the  lake,  under  the  pretence  of  seeing 
some  races  which  the  officers  of  the  garrison  had  ar- 
ranged. Roland  took  the  occasion  to  try  his  chances 
in  sounding  Ma-ry  about  a  matter  where  he  had  not 
had  full  success  in  his  consultations  with  his  aunt. 

"  Ma-ry,"  said  he,  "  tell  me  about  the  night  when 
Inez  was  lost  in  Texas,  —  by  the  river,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  poor  Inez !  She  was  so  tired !  she  was  so 
cold !  " 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  find  her?  " 

"  Oh,  ho  !  Easy  to  find  her !  I  went  where  she 
went.  Footstep  here,  footstep  there,  footstep  all 
along.  Leaf  here  and  leaf  there  —  broken  leaf,  torn 
leaf —  all  along.  Then  I  heard  her  cry.  She  cried 


or,  Show  your  Passports  343 

war-whoop,  —  hoo,  hoo,  hoo  !  — just  as  I  taught  her 
one  day.  Easy  to  find  her.'* 

"  And  you  brought  her  in  on  your  back?  " 

"  No :  nonsense,  Mr.  Perry.  You  know  she  came 
on  foot,  the  same  as  she  walks  now  with  Mr. 
Lonsdale." 

"  And  the  others  —  were  they  all  at  home  while 
you  looked  for  her?" 

"At  home?  Dear  aunty  was  by  the  fire,  waiting, 
and  praying  to  the  good  God.  Ransom,  he  built  up 
the  fire,  made  it  burn,  so  I  saw  the  smoke,  red 
smoke,  high,  high,  above  the  black-jacks  and  the 
hack-berries.  Black  men,  —  some  at  home,  some 
away.  All  the  rest  were  gone." 

"This  Captain  Harrod, — where  was  he,  Ma-ry?" 

"Oh!  Captain  Harrod?  Captain  Will  Harrod? 
Captain  Harrod  rode,  —  had  rode,  —  no,  Captain 
Harrod  had  ridden  back.  All  wrong;  all  wrong. 
Had  ridden  back  on  the  trail  —  on  the  old  trail ; 
ridden  fast,  ridden  well,  ridden  brave,  but  all  wrong. 
Had  ridden  back  to  camp  where  we  had  lunch  that 
same  day.  All  wrong.  Poor  Captain  Harrod !  " 

"  Why  did  he  ride  back,  Ma-ry,  if  it  was  all 
wrong?  " 

"  Captain  Harrod  not  know.  Captain  Harrod  saw 
Inez's  footmark.  Captain  Harrod  saw  it  was  mocca- 
sin mark ;  all  the  same  moccasin  Inez  wore  at 
breakfast  this  morning.  Captain  Harrod  see  mocca- 
sin mark;  no,  saw  moccasin  mark.  Captain  Har- 
rod thought  it  Apache  boy ;  thought  Apaches  caught 
Inez,  —  carry  her  away,  same  like  they  carry  Ma-ry 
away  —  carry  me  away." 


344  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"  And  he  went  after  them?  " 

"All  men  went,  —  all  but  Ransom  and  the  black 
men  and  Richards.  All  went  —  rode  fast,  fast  —  very 
fast;  and  found  no  Inez." 

And  the  girl  laughed.  "  Inez  all  happy  by  the 
fire.  Inez  all  asleep  in  the  tent." 

"  Ma-ry,  was  Captain  Harrod  very  good  to  Inez  ?  " 

And  so  you  think,  Master  Roland  Perry,  that,  be- 
cause this  girl  is  a  savage,  you  are  going  to  draw 
your  sister's  secrets  out  of  her,  do  you?  Much  do 
you  know  of  the  loyalty  of  women  to  women,  when 
they  choose  to  be  loyal. 

"  Captain  Harrod  very  good  to  Inez,  very  good  to 
aunty,  very  good  to  Ma-ry ;  "  this  with  the  first  look 
analogous  to  coquetry  that  Roland  had  ever  seen  in 
his  pupil. 

"  Good  to  everybody,  eh?  And  who  rode  with 
Captain  Harrod,  or  with  whom  did  he  ride  as  you 
travelled?  Who  rode  with  Inez?  Who  rode  with 
you?  " 

"  I  rode  with  him,  aunty  rode  with  him ;  "  and 
then,  correcting  herself,  "  he  rode  with  me :  he  rode 
with  aunty.  Aunty  very  pleasant  with  him.  Talk, 
talk,  talk,  all  morning.  I  not  understand  them. 
Talk,  talk,  talk.  Inez  and  Ma-ry  ride  together." 

This  was  a  combination  of  pieces  which  Roland 
had  not  thought  of.  He  followed  out  the  hint. 

"How  old  was  Captain  Harrod,  Ma-ry?" 

"Old?  I  do  not  know.  He  never  said;  I  never 
asked." 

"  No,  no !  you  never  asked ;  but  was  he  as  old  as 
Ransom?  Was  he  as  old  as  my  father?  " 


or,  Show  your  Passports  345 

Ma-ry  laughed  heartily. 

"  No,  no  !     No,  no,  no  !  " 

"  Was  he  as  old  as  —  Mr.  Lonsdale  there?" 

"  Me  no  know  —  I  mean  I  do  not  know.  Mr. 
Lonsdale  never  tell  me ;  "  and  she  laughed  again. 

"  Which  was  older,  —  Harrod  or  Nolan?  " 

"  Oh !  I  never  see,  I  never  seed  —  I  never  saw 
Captain  Phil.  Captain  Nolan  all  gone  before  I  saw 
Inez.  I  saw  Inez  at  Nacogdoches." 

"  And  did  Inez  like  Captain  Harrod  very  much, 
Ma-ry?" 

"  Oh,  ho !  I  think  so.  I  like  him  very  much. 
Aunty,  oh !  aunty  like  him  very  much.  Oh !  I 
think  Inez  like  him  very  much.  Ask  her,  Mr. 
Roland ;  ask  her."  And  the  girl  called,  "  Inez,  my 
darling,  Inez,  come  here !  " 

But  Inez  did  not  hear :  perhaps  it  was  not  meant 
that  she  should  hear. 

"  No,  no !  "  said  Master  Roland,  interrupting,  but 
so  much  of  a  man  still  that  he  did  not  know  that  this 
little  savage  girl  was  playing  with  him.  "  Do  not 
call  her.  She  can  tell  me  what  she  chooses.  But, 
Ma-ry  dear,  what  makes  Inez  unhappy?  When  she 
is  alone,  she  cries :  I  know  she  does.  I  see  her  eyes 
are  red.  When  she  is  with  us  all,  she  laughs  and 
talks  more  than  she  wants  to.  She  makes  believe, 
Ma-ry.  Ma-ry,  what  is  the  trouble,  the  sorrow  of 
Inez?" 

No,  Roland :  Ma-ry  is  very  fond  of  Inez,  and  she  is 
very  fond  of  you ;  but  if  you  want  Inez's  secrets  you 
must  go  to  Inez  for  them.  This  girl  of  the  woods 
will  not  betray  them. 


346  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"  Inez  very,  very  fond  of  Captain  Phil  Nolan.  Inez 
very,  very  sorry  for  poor  lady  who  is  dead,  and  little 
baby  boy.  When  Captain  Phil  Nolan  was  here,  here 
in  Orleans,  Captain  Phil  Nolan  told  her,  told  Inez,  all 
story,  —  all  the  story  of  beautiful  girl  who  is  dead. 
Fanny,  —  Fanny  Lintot.  Captain  Phil  Nolan  showed 
Inez  picture  —  pretty  picture,  —  oh,  so  pretty !  —  of 
Fanny  Lintot.  Told  her  secret.  Inez  told  no  one. 
No,  Inez  not  tell  aunty,  not  tell  me.  Now  gone,  all 
gone.  Fanny  Lintot  dead.  Captain  Nolan  dead. 
Only  little,  little  baby  boy.  Poor  Fanny  Lintot ! 
Poor  Inez  very  sorry.  But,  Mr.  Roland,  you  not  ask 
her.  No,  no,  no !  do  not  ask  her." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Roland,  led  away  by  the  girl's  eager- 
ness, and  not  aware,  indeed,  at  the  moment,  that  he 
had  been  foiled. 

Mr.  Silas  Perry  had  soon  made  the  same  remark 
which  the  eagle-eyed  reader  of  these  pages  has  made, 
that  his  son  and  his  ward  were  thrown  into  very  close 
"  propinquity  "  and  into  very  near  communion.  He 
had,  or  thought  he  had,  reasons,  not  for  putting  an 
actual  stop  to  it,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  for  not  en- 
couraging it;  and  he  speculated  not  a  little  as  to  the 
best  way  to  separate  these  young  people  a  little  more 
than  in  the  easy  circumstances  of  their  daily  life.  He 
had  consulted  his  sister  once  and  again  in  his  ques- 
tionings. She  had  proposed  a  removal  to  the  plan- 
tation. But  he  dreaded  to  take  this  step.  The 
exigencies  of  his  business  required  his  presence  in 
the  city  almost  every  day.  He  was  happy  in  his 
family;  and,  after  so  long  a  parting,  he  hated  to  be 
parted  long  again. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  347 

Matters  brought  themselves  to  a  crisis,  however. 
He  came  into  Eunice's  room  one  evening  in  serio- 
comic despair. 

"  Eunice,  you  must  do  something  with  your  Indian 
girl.  She  is  on  your  hands,  not  on  mine.  What  do 
you  think?  I  saw  something  light  outside  the  paling 
just  now.  I  went  out  to  see  what  it  might  be,  in  the 
gloaming ;  and  there  was  Ma-ry,  bobbing  at  a  craw- 
fish hole  for  crawfish,  as  quietly  as  you  are  mending 
that  stocking.  She  might  have  been  little  Dinah,  for 
all  anxiety  about  her  position.  She  never  dreamed, 
dear  child,  that  it  was  out  of  the  way/' 

"  What  did  you  say?"  said  Eunice,  laughing. 

"  It  was  not  in  my  heart  to  scold  her.  I  asked  her 
what  her  luck  was  —  " 

"  And  then  looked  for  another  crawfish  hole,  and 
sat  down  and  fished  by  her  side?" 

"No,"  said  he;  "  not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  I  told 
her  it  was  late,  that  she  must  not  stay  out  late ;  and 
she  gathered  up  her  prizes  prettily,  and  brought  them 
in.  She  never  resists  you  a  moment;  that  is  the 
reason  why  she  twirls  us  all  round  her  fipgers.  I 
don't  know  what  to  do.  It  would  break  Inez's  heart 
to  send  her  away,  not  to  say  mine.  She  gave  Chloe 
the  crawfish  for  breakfast." 

"There  is  Squam  Bay?"  said  Eunice  interroga- 
tively. 

"  I  had  thoughts  of  Squam  Bay.  Heavens,  how 
she  would  upset  the  proprieties  there  !  I  wonder 
what  Parson  Forbes  would  make  of  her.  I  would 
almost  send  her  to  Squam  Bay  for  the  fun  of  seeing 
the  explosion. 


348  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"You  see,"  after  a  pause,  "Squam  Bay  is  better 
than  the  nuns  here,  and  it  is  worse.  The  nuns  will 
teach  her  to  embroider,  and  to  talk  French,  and  to 
keep  secrets,  and  to  hide  things.  The  people  there 
will  teach  her  to  tell  the  truth,  where  she  needs  no 
teaching;  to  work,  where  she  needs  no  teaching; 
to  wash  and  to  iron ;  to  make  succotash ;  and  to  rec- 
oncile the  five  points  of  Calvinism  with  one  another 
and  with  infinite  love.  But  this  is  to  be  considered : 
with  the  nuns  she  is  close  to  us,  and  Squam  Bay 
is  very  far  off,  particularly  if  there  should  be  war." 

"  Always  war?  "    asked  Eunice  anxiously. 

What  troubled  Eunice  was  that  this  conversation, 
having  come  to  this  point,  never  went  any  farther. 
Forty  times  had  her  brother  come  about  as  far  as 
this ;  but  forty  times  he  had  put  off  till  next  week 
any  determination,  and  next  week  never  came.  The 
girl  was  too  dear  to  him ;  her  pretty  ways  were  be- 
coming too  necessary  for  him ;  Inez  was  too  fond  of 
her;  and  home-life,  just  thus  and  so,  was  too  charm- 
ing. At  any  given  moment  he  hated  to  break  the 
spell,  and  to  destroy  all. 

This  was,  however,  the  last  of  these  conferences. 
The  next  morning,  immediately  after  family  prayers, 
Silas  Perry  beckoned  his  sister  into  his  own  den. 

"  It  is  all  settled,"  he  said  half  gayly,  half  dolefully. 

"  What  is  settled?" 

"  Ma-ry  yonder,  the  savage,  is  to  go  to  the  Ursu- 
lines." 

"  Who  settled  that?"  asked  Eunice,  supposing  this 
was  only  the  forty-first  phase  of  the  talk  of  which  last 
night  showed  the  fortieth. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  349 

"  Who  settled  it  ?  Why,  Ma-ry  settled  it.  Who 
settles  everything  in  this  house?  What  is  the  old 
story?  It  is  repeated  here.  Ma-ry  manages  Ransom  ; 
Ma-ry  manages  Inez;  Ma-ry  manages  you.  And 
you  and  Inez  and  Ransom  manage  me." 

"  We  and  Roland,"    said  Eunice. 

"As  you  will.  If  Ma-ry  does  not  manage  him 
too,  I  am  much  mistaken.  Anyway,  the  dear  child 
has  given  her  directions  this  time,  with  as  quiet  de- 
termination as  if  she  had  been  yourself,  and  with 
as  distinct  eye  down  the  future  as  if  she  had  been 
Parson  Forbes.  She  wants  to  go  to  the  Ursulines, 
and  to  the  Ursulines  she  is  to  go." 

The  Ursulines'  convent  was  at  this  moment  the 
only  school  for  girls,  of  any  account,  in  Orleans,  not 
to  say  in  Louisiana. 

"What  did  she  say?" 

"  She  said  that  all  the  things  she  knew  were  things 
of  the  woods  and  the  prairies  and  the  rivers.  She 
said  Inez  was  kind,  too  kind ;  that  you  were  kind,  too 
kind ;  that  everybody  was  kind.  But  she  said  that 
she  was  never  to  go  back  to  the  woods,  never  to 
live  in  them.  She  must  learn  to  do  what  women 
did  here.  If  she  stayed  in  this  house,  I  should  spoil 
her.  She  did  not  put  it  in  these  words,  but  that  was 
what  she  meant.  If  she  went  to  the  nuns,  she  should 
study  all  the  time,  and  should  never  play.  Here,  she 
said,  it  was  hard,  very  hard,  not  to  play." 

"What  will  Inez  say?" 

"  I  dare  not  guess.     Ma-ry  has  gone  to  tell  her." 

"  And  what  will  Roland  say?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  nor  do  I  know  who  will  tell  him." 


350  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 


CHAPTER   XXX 

MOTHER  AND   CHILD 

"  Smile  not,  my  child, 

But  sleep  deeply  and  sweetly,  and  so  beguiled 
Of  the  pang  that  awaits  us,  whatever  that  be 
So  dreadful,  since  thou  must  divide  it  with  me." 

SHELLEY. 

So  it  was  settled,  and  settled  by  herself,  that  poor 
Ma-ry  should  go  into  a  convent  school.  The  freest 
creature  on  earth  was  to  be  shut  up  in  the  most 
complicated  system  of  surveillance. 

Ransom  was  well-nigh  beside  himself  when  he 
found  that  this  step  had  been  determined  on,  in  face 
of  his  known  views,  and,  indeed,  without  even  the 
pretence  of  consultation  with  him.  For  the  next 
day  gloom  was  in  all  his  movements.  He  would 
not  bring  Mr.  Perry  the  claret  that  he  liked,  and 
pretended  there  was  none  left.  He  carried  off  the 
only  pair  of  pumps  which  Roland  could  wear  to  the 
governor's  ball,  and  pretended  they  needed  mending. 
Inez  sent  him  for  her  hat;  and  he  would  not  find 
it,  and  pretended  he  could  not.  For  a  day  the 
family  was  made  to  understand  that  Ransom  was 
deeply  displeased. 

He  made  a  moment  for  a  conference  with  Ma-ry, 
as  he  strapped  her  trunk.  The  only  consolation  he 
had  had  was  the  selection  of  this  trunk,  at  a  little 
shop  where  they  brought  such  things  from  France. 

"  Ma-ry,1'  said  he,  "  they  '11  want  you  to  go  on  your 


or,  Show  your  Passports  351 

knees  before  them  painted  eye-dolls.  Don't  ye  do  it. 
They  can't  make  ye  noway,  and  ye  must  n't  do  it. 
Say  ye  prayers  as  Miss  Eunice  taught  ye,  and  don't 
say  'em  to  eye-dolls.  They  '11  tell  ye  to  lie  and  steal. 
Don't  ye  do  it.  Let  um  lie  as  much  as  they  want 
to ;  but  don't  ye  believe  the  fust  word  they  tell  ye. 
They  won't  give  ye  nothin'  to  eat  but  frogs,  and  not 
enough  of  them.  Don't  ye  mind.  I'll  send  round 
myself  a  basket  twice  a  week.  They  won't  let  me 
come  myself,  'cause  they  won't  have  no  men  near 
um  but  them  black-coated  priests,  all  beggars,  all 
on  um,  and  them  others  with  brown  nightgowns.  Let 
them  come ;  but  I  shall  make  old  Chloe  go  round, 
or  Salome,  that 's  the  other  one,  twice  a  week  with  a 
basket,  and  sunthin'  good  in  it,  and  anough  for  three 
days.  An'  you  keep  the  basket,  Ma-ry,  and  sponge 
it  out,  and  give  it  back  to  her  next  time  she  comes. 
Don't  let  them  nuns  get  the  baskets,  'cause  they  ain't 
any  more  like  um.  They 's  white-oak  baskets,  made 
in  a  place  up  behind  Atkinson;  they  ain't  but  one 
man  knows  how  to  make  um,  an'  I  make  old  Turner 
bring  um  down  here  to  me.  Don't  ye  let  the  nuns 
get  the  baskets." 

Ma-ry  promised  compliance  with  all  his  di- 
rections ;  and  the  certainty  of  outwitting  the  "  eye- 
dollaters "  on  the  matter  of  her  diet  threw  a  little 
gleam  of  comfort  over  the  old  man's  sadness. 

She  went  to  the  Ursulines.  The  Ursulines  re- 
ceived her  with  the  greatest  tenderness,  and  thought 
they  never  had  a  more  obedient  pupil. 

And  this  was  the  chief  event  in  the  family  history 
of  that  winter.  With  the  spring  other  changes  came, 


352  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

necessitated  by  a  removal  to  the  plantation.  Al- 
though this  was  by  no  means  Silas  Perry's  chief 
interest,  he  had  great  pride  in  it;  and  he  did  not 
choose  to  have  it  in  the  least  behind  the  planta- 
tions of  his  Creole  neighbors.  Roland  had  brought 
from  the  polytechnic  school  some  pet  theories  of 
science  which  he  was  eager  to  apply  in  the  sugar- 
mills;  and  he  did  not  find  it  difficult  to  persuade 
Lonsdale  to  join  him,  even  for  weeks  at  a  time, 
when  he  went  up  the  coast.  A  longer  expedition, 
however,  called  them  away,  both  from  the  counting- 
house  and  from  the  plantation. 

General  Bowles  had  not  forgotten  his  promise. 
Inez  and  Roland  both  twitted  Aunt  Eunice  with 
her  conquest  over  this  handsome  adventurer.  It 
was  in  vain  that  Eunice  said  that  he  was  well  known 
to  have  one  wife,  and  was  even  said  to  have  many. 
All  the  more  they  insisted  that  no  one  knew  but 
all  these  savage  ladies  might  have  been  scalped 
in  some  internecine  or  Kilkennyish  brawl,  and  that 
the  general  might  be  seeking  a  more  pacific  help- 
meet. The  truth  about  General  Bowles  was  that 
he  was  one  of  the  wildest  adventurers  of  any  time. 
Born  in  Maryland,  he  had  enlisted  in  King  George's 
army  just  after  Germantown  and  Brandywine.  He 
had  been  a  prosperous  chief  of  the  Creeks.  He 
had  conferred,  equal  with  equal,  with  the  generals 
who  had  commanded  him  in  the  English  army 
only  a  few  years  before.  He  had  been  an  artist 
and  an  actor,  in  his  checkered  life;  he  had  been 
in  Spanish  prisons,  and  had  been  presented  at  the 
English  court. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  353 

One  day,  when  a  very  distinguished  Indian  em- 
bassy had  brought  in  a  letter  from  him  to  Eunice, 
Roland  undertook  to  explain  all  this  to  Mr.  Lonsdale. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Lonsdale/'  said  the  impudent 
youngster  Roland,  who  had  chosen  to  give  this 
account  to  him,  as  coolly  as,  on  another  occasion, 
he  had  cross-questioned  him  about  the  same  man, — 
"  and  now,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  weary  of  diplomacy,  he 
proposes  to  leave  the  throne  of  Creekdom.  He 
lays  his  crown  at  Miss  Perry's  feet;  and  she  has 
only  to  say  one  little  word,  and  he  will  become 
a  sugar-planter  of  distinction  on  the  C6te  des  Aca- 
diens,  with  Miss  Perry  as  his  helpmeet,  to  cure  the 
diseases  of  his  people,  and  with  Mr.  Roland  Perry, 
ancien  eteve  de  I*  Ecole  Poly  technique  >  to  direct  the 
crystallization  of  his  sugar." 

The  truth  was,  as  it  must  be  confessed,  that  the 
general's  letters  had  usually  been  made  out  of 
very  slender  capital.  He  would  write  to  say  that 
he  was  afraid  his  last  letter  had  miscarried,  or 
that  he  should  like  to  know  if  Miss  Ma-ry  re- 
membered a  house  with  a  chimney  at  each  end, 
whether  she  had  ever  seen  a  saw-mill,  or  the  like. 
For  a  man  who  had  nothing  to  say  General  Bowles 
certainly  wrote  to  Miss  Perry  a  great  many  letters 
that  winter.  But  on  this  occasion  Eunice  was  so 
much  absorbed,  as  she  read,  that  she  did  not  give 
the  least  attention  to  Roland's  raillery. 

"  Hear  this !  hear  this !  Roland,  go  call  your 
father.  This  really  means  something." 

Mr.  Perry  came,  on  the  summons. 

Eunice  began :  — 

23 


354  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

GENERAL  BOWLES  TO  Miss  PERRY. 

TALLADEGA,  CREEK  NATION,  April  19,  1802. 
MY  DEAR  Miss  PERRY,  —  I  can  at  last  send  you  some 
tidings  which  mean  something.  If  you  knew  the  regret 
which  I  have  felt  in  sending  you  so  little  news  before, 
you  would  understand  my  pleasure  now  that  I  really  believe 
I  may  be  of  some  use  to  your  charming  protegee. 

"  Well  begun,"  said  the  irreverent  Roland.  "  We 
shall  come  to  the  sugar-plantation  on  the  next  page.'1 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  said  his  father;  and 
Eunice  read  on :  — 

I  have  just  returned  from  a  "  talk,"  so  called,  with  some 
of  the  older  chiefs  of  the  Choctaw  and  Cherokee  nations. 
So  soon  as  I  renewed  the  old  confidence  which  these 
men  always  felt  in  me,  I  made  my  first  inquiries  as  to 
raids  from  the  west  into  the  territories  north  of  us,  in 
the  year  1785,  or  thereabouts.  The  Cherokee  warriors 
knew  nothing  of  our  matter. 

But  the  Choctaw  chiefs,  fortunately,  were  better  in- 
formed. As  to  the  time  there  can  be  no  question.  It 
was  the  year  1784,  well  known  to  all  these  people  from 
some  eclipse  or  other  which  specially  excited  them. 

A  party  of  Choctaw  chiefs,  embodying  all  that  there  are 
left  of  the  once  famous  Natchez,  who,  as  your  brother  tells 
us,  have  just  now  appeared  in  literature,  —  a  party  of  Choc- 
taw chiefs  crossed  the  Mississippi,  and  even  the  Red  River, 
in  quest  of  some  lost  horses.  This  means,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  that  they  went  to  take  other  horses  to  replace  the  lost 
ones.  They  met  a  large  roving  body  of  Apaches.  They 
saw  them,  and  they  were  whipped  by  them.  They  re- 
crossed  the  Mississippi  much  faster  than  they  went  over. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  355 

These  savages  of  the  West  had  never,  to  my  knowledge, 
crossed  the  Father  of  Waters.  But  on  this  occasion,  elated 
by  their  success,  they  did  so ;  and  then,  fortunately  for  the 
Choctaw  people,  they  forgot  them.  They  were  far  north ; 
and  hearing  of  a  little  settlement  from  Carolina,  low  down 
on  the  Cumberland  River,  they  pounced  on  it,  and  killed 
every  fighting  man.  They  burned  every  house,  and  stole 
every  horse.  Then  the  whites  above  them  came  down  on 
them  so  fast  that  they  retired  as  best  they  might. 

It  is  they,  I  am  assured,  who  are  the  only  Apaches 
who  have  crossed  the  Mississippi  in  this  generation.  It 
is  they,  as  I  believe,  who  seized  your  little  friend  and 
her  mother. 

If  you  have  any  correspondents  in  the  new  State  of 
Tennessee,  they  ought  to  be  able  to  inform  you  further 
regarding  the  outpost  thus  destroyed.  I  cannot  learn 
that  it  had  any  name ;  but  it  was  very  low  on  the 
Cumberland,  and  the  time  was  certainly  November,  1784. 

41  There  is  more !  there  is  more !  "  screamed  Ro- 
land, seeing  that  his  aunt  stopped. 

"  There  is  nothing  more  about  Ma-ry,"  said  Eunice, 
who  felt  that  she  blushed,  and  was  provoked  beyond 
words  that  she  did  so. 

"  More !  more !  "  cried  the  bold  boy,  putting  out 
his  hand  for  the  letter;  but  his  aunt  folded  it,  and 
put  it  in  her  pocket. 

And  a  warning  word  from  his  father,  "  Roland, 
behave  yourself,"  told  the  young  gentleman  that 
for  once  he  was  going  too  far. 


356  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

ON  THE   PLANTATION 

"  Those  sacred  mysteries,  for  the  vulgar  ear 
Unmeet ;  and  known,  most  impious  to  declare, 
Oh  !  let  due  reverence  for  the  gods  restrain 
Discourses  rash,  and  check  inquiries  vain." 

Homeric  Hymns. 

LITTLE  enough  chance  of  finding  anything  by  raking 
over  the  wretched  ashes  of  that  village  burned  eigh- 
teen years  before.  Still  every  one  would  be  glad  to 
know  that  the  last  was  known ;  and,  if  one  aching 
heart  could  be  spared  one  throb  of  agony,  every 
one  would  be  glad  to  spare  it. 

The  wonder  and  the  satisfaction  excited  by  Gen- 
eral Bowles's  letter  held  the  little  party  in  eager  talk 
for  five  minutes;  and  then  Mr.  Lonsdale,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  of  the  plantation  party  that  day,  filled 
up  the  gap  in  the  practical  and  definite  way  by 
which,  more  than  once,  that  man  of  mystery  had 
distinguished  himself. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  friends  Mr.  Perry  may  have, 
or  what  you  may  have,  in  Tennessee  State,"  said  he, 
almost  eagerly;  "but  I  hope,  I  trust,  Miss  Perry, 
that  you  will  put  your  commission  of  inquiry  into 
my  hands.  I  have  loitered  here  in  your  dolce  far 
niente  of  Louisiana  much  longer  than  I  meant,  as 
you  know.  What  with  this  and  that  invitation,  I 
have  stayed  and  stayed  in  Capua,  as  if,  indeed, 
here  were  the  object  of  my  life.  But  my  measures 
were  all  taken  last  week.  I  asked  Mr.  Hutchings 


or,  Show  your  Passports  357 

to  select  a  padrone  and  boatmen  for  me ;  and  he  has 
hired  a  boat  which,  I  am  told,  is  just  what  it  should 
be.  Pardon  me  for  saying  '  a  boat :  '  I  am  told  I 
must  call  it  a  voiture.  Your  arrangements  are  fairly 
Venetian,  Miss  Perry.  Men  seem  to  know  but  one 
carriage.'1 

"  Oh,  call  it  a  galliot !  "  she  said,  "  and  we  shall 
know  what  you  mean.11 

"  If  you  would  only  be  Cleopatra,"  said  Mr.  Lons- 
dale,  with  high  gallantry,  and  he  bowed. 

"  I  shall  be  late  in  delivering  my  commissions  at 
Fort  Massac;  but  I  shall  be  there  before  any  one 
else  leaving  Orleans  this  spring.  Pray  let  me  make 
your  inquiries  regarding  this  dear  child's  family.1' 

Loyally  said,  and  loyally  planned,  Mr.  Lonsdale. 
If  this  man  is  a  diplomatist,  or  whatever  he  be,  he 
has  twice  come  to  the  relief  of  Eunice  by  a  most 
signal  service,  offered  in  the  most  simple  and  manly 
way.  Even  the  suspicious  Inez  looked  her  grati- 
tude, through  eyes  that  were  filled  with  tears. 

The  plan  was  too  good  not  to  be  acceded  to. 
Roland  begged  to  go  as  a  volunteer  on  the  expedi- 
tion; and  Mr.  Perry  insisted  on  it  that  he  must  see 
to  the  stores. 

"Pardon  me,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  but  your  countryman 
Mr.  Hutchings  does  not  know  as  we  do  what  the 
Mississippi  demands.  I  shall  provision  your  galliot, 
or  rather  Ransom  will;  for,  if  I  undertook  to  do 
it  without  his  aid,  he  would  countermand  all  my 
directions.  I  may  as  well  from  the  first  confess  to 
him  that  I  am  at  his  mercy." 

"  Take  care,  Mr.  Perry,  for  I  am  almost  as  much  a 


358  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

favorite  with  him  as  you  are.  That  is,  his  pity  for 
my  ignorance,  not  to  say  his  contempt  for  it,  takes 
with  me  the  place  of  his  affection  for  your  house. 
If  you  tell  him  to  store  the  galliot  for  both  of  us, 
he  will  strip  the  plantation.  '  Ain't  nothin'  fit  to 
eat,  all  the  way  up  river/  he  will  say.  '  All  on  'em 
eats  alligators  and  persimmons.  Don'  know  what 
good  codfish  and  salt  pork  is,  none  on  urn.' " 

Everybody  laughed. 

"  Capital,  capital,  Mr.  Lonsdale  !  You  have  studied 
the  language  of  the  country  at  its  fountain." 

"  We  will  not  let  Ransom  starve  us,  Mr.  Lonsdale; 
but  certainly  we  will  not  let  him  starve  you." 

The  reader  of  to-day,  who  embarks  at  New  Orleans 
for  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  in  a  steamboat  which  is 
"  a  palace  above  and  a  warehouse  below,"  has  to  take 
thought,  in  order  to  make  real  to  himself  a  voyage, 
when  Lonsdale  and  Roland  could  not  expect,  even 
with  extra  good  luck,  to  reach  their  destination  in 
two  months'  time.  Slow  as  travelling  was  from  Phila- 
delphia or  Baltimore  across  the  mountains,  many  a 
traveller  would  have  taken  a  voyage  from  New  Orleans 
to  an  Atlantic  seaport,  that  he  might  descend  the 
Ohio,  rather  than  ascend  the  Mississippi. 

In  this  case,  every  preparation  was  made  for  com- 
fort and  for  speed,  on  a  plan  not  very  unlike  that  on 
which  Inez  and  her  aunt  started  on  their  journey  for 
Texas. 

By  a  special  dispensation,  in  which,  perhaps,  the 
vicar-general  and  bishop  assisted,  not  to  say  the  pope 
himself,  Ma-ry  was  liberated  from  the  convent  school 
to  be  present  at  the  last  farewells.  The  evening  was 


or,  Show  your  Passports  359 

spent  at  the  plantation  with  affected  cheerfulness,  as 
is  men's  custom  on  the  evenings  of  departure ;  and 
with  early  morning  the  two  travellers  were  on  their 
way.  Mr.  Perry  took  his  own  boat  as  they  went  up 
the  river,  and  went  down  to  the  city  to  his  counting- 
house,  taking  Ma-ry  to  a  new  sojourn  with  the 
Ursulines,  in  which  her  docility  must  show  the  pope 
that  she  had  not  abused  his  gracious  permission  for 
a  "  retreat" 

Eunice  made  her  preparations  for  a  quiet  week 
with  Inez.  Dear  little  Inez !  she  was  more  lovely 
than  ever,  now  that  there  was  always  a  shade  of  care 
about  her.  How  true  it  is  that  human  life  never  can 
be  tempered  into  the  true  violet  steel  without  passing 
through  the  fire !  And  Inez  had  passed  through.  It 
was  the  one  bitter  experience  of  life  in  which  nobody 
could  help  her.  Eunice  knew  that.  She  would  have 
died  for  this  child  to  save  her  sorrow;  and  yet  with- 
out sorrow,  nay,  without  bitter  anguish,  this  lively, 
happy  girl  could  never  be  made  into  a  true  woman. 
That  Eunice  knew  also.  And,  while  Inez  suffered, 
all  Eunice  could  do  was  to  sit  by,  or  stand  by  and 
look  on,  —  to  watch  and  to  pray  as  she  did  that 
night  by  the  camp-fire. 

"  Now  we  are  rid  of  them  all,  aunty,  we  can  go  to 
work  and  get  things  into  order.  There  is  no  end  of 
things  to  be  done,  and  you  are  to  show  me  how  to  do 
them  all.  What  in  the  world  will  come  to  the  planta- 
tion when  you  go  off  to  be  Duchess  of  Clarence,  or 
maybe  queen  of  England,  if  I  do  not  learn  something 
this  summer?  " 

"  Could  you  not  push  the  Duke  of  Clarence  into  a 


360  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

butt  of  malmsey,  and  be  well  rid  of  him?  Then  you 
would  be  free  from  your  terrors.  For  me,  I  have  not 
yet  seen  him,  and  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  like  him. 
Go,  get  your  apron,  and  come  with  me." 

And  so  the  two  girls,  as  Mr.  Perry  still  called  them 
fondly,  had  what  women  term  a  "  lovely  time  "  that 
day.  No  such  true  joy  to  the  well-trained  housekeep- 
ing chief,  as  to  get  rid  of  the  men  occasionally  an 
hour  or  two  early.  Eunice  and  Inez  resolved  that 
they  would  have  no  regular  dinner,  just  a  cup  of  tea 
and  a  bit  of  cold  meat;  and  that  the  day  should  be 
devoted  to  the  inner  mysteries  of  that  mysterious 
Eleusinian  profession  which  is  the  profession  of  the 
priestess  of  Ceres,  or  the  domestic  hearth. 

And  a  field-day  they  had  of  it.  The  infirmary  was 
inspected,  and  the  nursery,  the  clothing-rooms,  the 
kitchen,  and  the  storehouses.  Inez  filled  her  little 
head  full,  and  her  little  note-book  fuller.  They  were 
both  in  high  conclave  over  some  pieces  of  coarse 
home-woven  cotonnades,  —  a  famous  manufacture  of 
their  Acadian  neighbors,  —  when  a  scream  was  heard 
from  the  shore,  and  Mr.  Perry  was  seen  approaching. 

The  ladies  welcomed  him  with  eager  wonder.  He 
was  tired  and  evidently  annoyed,  but  relieved  them 
in  a  minute  from  personal  anxiety  about  Ma-ry  or 
any  near  friend. 

"  Still  my  news  is  as  bad  as  it  can  be.  I  have 
come  back  to  send  it  up  to  Roland  there  and  Mr. 
Lonsdale.  This  Morales,  this  idiot  of  an  intendant, 
means  to  cut  off  from  the  people  above  the  right  of 
sending  their  goods  to  Orleans." 

"  Cut  off  the  right  of  depot !  "  cried  both  the  girls 


or,  Show  your  Passports  361 

in  a  word.  They  both  knew  that  the  prosperity  of 
Orleans  and  the  prosperity  of  the  West  alike  de- 
pended on  it;  nay,  they  knew  that  peace  or  war 
depended  upon  it.  They  heard  with  the  amazement 
with  which  they  would  have  heard  that  the  intendant 
had  fired  the  cathedral. 

"  Yes,  the  fool  has  cut  off  the  permission  for 
deposit.  Of  course  I  supposed  it  was  a  blunder.  I 
went  round  to  my  lord's  office,  and  saw  the  idiot 
myself.  He  is  as  mad  as  a  March  hare.  I  reminded 
him  of  the  treaty.  The  right  is  sure  for  three  years 
more  against  all  the  intendants  in  the  world.  The  crazy 
coot  rolled  his  eyes,  and  said  that  in  the  high  politics 
treaties  even  sometimes  must  give  way.  High  fiddle- 
sticks !  I  wish  his  Prince  of  Peace  was  higher  than 
he  has  been  yet,  and  with  nothing  to  stand  upon !  " 

"  Did  you  speak  of  the  —  the  secret?"  said  Eunice, 
meaning  that  Louisiana  was  really  Napoleon's  prov- 
ince, or  the  French  Republic's,  at  this  moment,  and 
no  province  of  Spain. 

"  I  just  hinted  at  it.  So  absurd  that  there  should 
be  this  pretence  of  secrecy,  when  the  'secret*  has 
been  whispered  in  every  paper  in  the  land !  But, 
indeed,  the  men  who  are  most  angry  below  say  that 
this  is  Bonaparte's  plan,  that  he  wants  to  try  the  tem- 
per of  the  Kentuckians.  He  is  no  such  fool.  It  is 
another  piece  of  Salcedo's  madness,  or  of  the  mad- 
ness which  ruled  Salcedo's.  Perhaps  they  want  at 
Madrid  to  steal  all  the  value  from  their  gift.  Clearly 
enough  there  is  a  quarrel  between  old  Salcedo  the 
governor,  and  this  ass  of  a  Morales.  The  Intendant 
Morales  will  do  it,  or  says  he  will  do  it  all  the  same; 


362  Philip  Nolan's  Friends-, 

and  the  governor  does  not  interfere.  But  it  is  all  one 
business :  it  is  that  madness  that  sent  Muzquiz  after 
our  poor  friend ;  it  is  that  madness  which  appointed 
Salcedo,  the  old  fool,  here.  Madrid,  indeed  !  " 

"  What  will  the  river  people  say?  "  asked  Inez. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  they  '11  say/'  said  her  exas- 
perated father,  who  had  by  this  time  talked  himself 
back  into  the  same  rage  with  which  he  had  left  the 
intendant's  apartments ;  "  but  I  know  what  they  will 
do.  They  will  take  their  rifles  on  their  shoulders, 
and  their  powder-horns.  They  will  put  a  few  barrels 
of  pork  and  hard-tack  on  John  Adams's  boats,  which 
are  waiting  handy  for  them  up  there.  They  will 
take  the  first  rise  on  the  river  after  they  hear  this 
news;  and  they  will  come  down  and  smoke  this 
whole  tribe  of  drones  out  of  this  hive,  and  the  in- 
tendant  and  the  whole  crew  will  be  in  Cuba  in  no 
time.  Inez,  mark  what  I  say.  This  river  and  this 
town  go  together.  The  power  that  holds  this  town 
for  an  hour  or  a  day  against  the  wish  of  the  people 
above  holds  it  to  its  ruin.  Remember  that,  if  you 
live  a  hundred  years." 

"  The  whole  army  of  Cuba  could  be  brought  here 
in  a  very  few  weeks,"  said  Eunice,  thoughtfully. 

"  Never  you  fear  the  army  of  Cuba.  The  general 
who  ever  brings  an  army  from  the  Gulf  against  New 
Orleans,  when  the  sharp-shooters  of  this  valley  want 
to  hold  New  Orleans,  comes  here  to  his  ruin.  Inez, 
when  New  Orleans  and  the  Western  country  shall 
learn  to  hold  together,  New  Orleans  will  be  one  of 
the  first  cities  of  the  world;  and  you,  girl,  are  young 
enough  to  live  to  see  it  so." 


or,  Show  your  Passports  363 

All  this  he  said,  as  Eunice  fairly  insisted  on  his 
drinking  a  cup  of  coffee  and  eating  something  after 
his  voyage.  All  the  time,  however,  the  preparations 
were  going  forward,  to  order  which  he  had  himself 
come  up  the  river.  The  lightest  and  swiftest  boat  in 
the  little  navy  of  the  plantation  was  hastily  got  ready 
to  be  sent  with  the  bad  news  to  Roland  and  Lons- 
dale.  Nobody  knew  whether  the  intendant  had  for- 
warded it.  Nobody  knew  whether  he  meant  to.  But, 
since  Oliver  Pollock  and  Silas  Perry  forwarded  gun- 
powder to  Washington  six  and  twenty  years  before, 
they  knew  the  way  to  send  news  up  the  river  when 
they  chose,  and  he  did  not  choose  that  any  intendant 
of  them  all  should  be  ahead  of  him. 

The  boat  was  ready  before  half  an  hour  was  over. 
The  occasion  was  so  pressing  that  Ransom  himself 
was  put  in  charge  of  the  expedition  and  the  de- 
spatches. The  other  party  had  a  day  the  start  of 
them.  But  Ransom  took  a  double  crew  that  he 
might  row  all  night,  and  hoped  to  overhaul  them  at 
their  camp  of  the  second  evening. 

CHAPTER   XXXII 

THE  DESOLATE   HOME 

"  Still,  as  they  travel,  far  and  wide, 
Catch  they  and  keep  they  a  trace  here,  a  trace  there, 
That  puts  you  in  mind  of  a  place  here,  a  place  there." 

BROWNING. 

RANSOM  returned  a  good  deal  earlier  than  anybody 
expected.  He  came  in  the  middle  of  the  night  with 
as  cross  a  crew  of  boatmen  as  ever  rowed  any  Jason 


364  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

or  Odysseus.  He  had  compelled  them  to  such  labors 
as  they  did  not  in  the  least  believe  in. 

He  reported  to  Eunice  before  breakfast. 

"  So  you  caught  them,  Ransom?  " 

"  Yes,  'm.  Come  up  with  um  little  this  side  Pointe 
Coupee.  They  was  in  camp.  Good  camp  too.  All 
right  and  comfortable.  Mr.  Roland  understands 
things,  mum." 

"  And  you  did  n't  see  the  Spaniards?  " 

"  Yes,  'm  —  see  um.  Did  n't  see  me  though  — 
darned  fools.  See  them  fust  night  out.  They  was 
all  asleep  in  the  Green  Reach.  See  they  fires,  lazy 
dogs !  did  n't  go  nigh  um,  'n'  they  did  n't  know 
nothin'  about  us;  passed  right  by  um,  t'  other  side 
of  the  river.  That 's  all  they 's  fit  for.  Calls  um 
coast-guards.  Much  as  ever  they  can  do  is  to  keep 
they  own  hats  on." 

"And  what  message  did  the  gentlemen  send?  " 

"  Said  they  was  all  well,  and  had  had  very  good 
luck;  'n'  they  wrote  two  letters  —  three  letters  here, 
for  you  and  Miss  Inez  'n1  Mr.  Perry.  I  'd  better  take 
his'n  down  to  him  myself.  I  'm  goin'  down  to- 
day." 

"  And  did  you  come  back  in  one  day,  Ransom?" 

"  Yes,  'm.  Come  down  on  the  current.  Come  in 
no  time,  ef  these  lazy  niggers  knew  how  to  row. 
Don't  know  nothin'.  Ought  to  'a'  been  here  at  three 
o'clock.  Did  n't  git  here  till  midnight.  Told  um 
I  'd  get  out  'n'  walk,  but  ye  can't  shame  um  nor 
nothin'.  They  can't  row.  They  don't  know  nothin'." 

This  was  Ransom's  modest  account  of  a  feat  un- 
surpassed on  the  river  for  ten  years  —  indeed,  till  the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  365 

achievements  of  steam  left  such  feats  for  the  future 
unrecorded. 

"  And  you  saw  no  one  coming  down?  " 

"  Yes,  'm.  See  them  Spanish  beggars  ag'in,  and 
this  time  they  stopped  me.  Could  n't  'a'  stopped  me 
ef  I  did  n't  choose ;  but  there  's  no  use  quarrelling. 
They  was  gittin'  ready  for  the  siesta,  's  they  calls 
it,  lazy  dogs !  right  this  side  o'  Mr.  Le  Bourgeois's 
place,  —  pootiest  place  on  the  river.  We  was  on 
t'  other  side,  and  they  seed  us,  and  fired  a  shot  in 
the  air;  and  I  told  the  niggers  to  stop  rowin'.  Made 
the  Spanishers  —  them  's  the  coast-guard,  they  calls 
um  —  come  out  and  meet  us.  They  asked  where 
we  'd  been.  I  told  um  we  'd  been  cat-fishing.  They 
asked  where  the  fish  was.  I  said  we  had  n't  had  no 
luck.  They  asked  if  any  boats  had  passed  me,  and 
I  said  they  had  n't,  'cause  they  had  n't.  They  asked 
me  to  take  a  note  down  to  the  intendant,  'n'  I  said  I 
would ;  'n'  I  got  it  here.  Guess  I  shall  give  it  to  him 
about  Thanksgivin'  time." 

This,  with  a  grim  smile  of  contempt  for  the  snares 
and  wiles  of  the  Spanishers. 

"  O  Ransom !  you  had  better  take  it  to  the  inten- 
dant's  to-day." 

"  I  '11  see,  mum.  Sartin  it's  for  no  good, 'cause 
they 's  no  good  in  um.  They  's  all  thieves  'n'  liars. 
Mebbe  it's  for  harm,  'n'  ef  it  is,  they'd  better  not 
have  it." 

"Well,  show  it  to  Mr.  Perry,  Ransom,  anyway." 

To  which  the  old  man  made  no  reply,  but  with- 
drew; and  then  the  ladies  undertook  the  business  of 
letter-reading  and  breakfasting  together.  The  letters 


366  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

would  not  tell  many  facts.  They  might  show  to  the 
skilful  reader  something  of  what  was  in  the  heart  of 
each  writer,  as  he  left  for  such  long  and  solitary 
journey.  But  this  story  hurries  to  its  end,  and  these 
intimations  of  feeling  must  be  left  to  the  reader's 
conjectures. 

Whatever  they  said,  the  ladies  had  to  satisfy  them- 
selves with  these  letters  for  months.  The  news  which 
Lonsdale  and  Roland  carried  was  enough  to  turn 
back  most  of  the  downward-bound  boats  which  would 
else  have  taken  their  letters.  Such  boats  as  did 
attempt  the  gauntlet  were  seized  or  threatened  at  the 
different  Spanish  posts ;  were  searched,  perhaps,  by 
guarda  costasy  so  called ;  and  nothing  so  suspicious 
as  letters,  even  were  these  the  most  tender-looking 
of  billets  to  the  sweetest  of  ladies,  was  permitted  to 
slip  through. 

It  is  true  that  some  cause,  either  the  bitter  protests 
of  the  American  factors,  or  some  doubts  engendered 
by  despatches  from  home,  postponed  until  October 
the  final  proclamation  of  the  famous  interdict  by 
which  New  Orleans  was  self-starved  and  self-besieged. 
Its  effect  on  the  upper  country  was  none  the  less  for 
the  delay. 

The  ladies  settled  back  into  that  simple  and  not 
unprofitable  life  so  well  known  to  our  grandmothers, 
so  impossible  to  describe  to  their  descendants,  or 
even  for  these  descendants  to  conceive,  —  a  life  un- 
persecuted  by  telegrams,  by  letters,  by  express- 
parcels  ;  a  life  which  knew  nothing  of  that  "  stand 
and  deliver,"  which  bids  us  reply  by  return  of  post ; 
or,  while  the  telegraph-messenger  waits  in  the  hall, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  367 

to  give  a  decision  on  which  may  rest  the  happiness 
of  a  life.  For  Eunice  and  Inez,  the  great  events  were, 
perhaps,  to  see  that  a  crew  of  Caddoes  drifting  down 
the  river  with  their  baskets  were  properly  welcomed ; 
perhaps  to  spend  the  day  with  Madame  Porcher,  at 
her  plantation  just  below;  perhaps  to  prepare  for 
the  return  visit  when  the  time  came ;  perhaps  to  go 
out  of  a  Saturday  evening  to  see  the  Acadians  dance 
themselves  almost  dead  to  the  violin-music  of  Michael, 
the  old  white-haired  fiddler;  perhaps  for  Inez  to  keep 
her  little  school  daily,  in  which  she  taught  the  little 
black  folk  the  mysteries  of  letters ;  and  all  the  time, 
certainly,  for  both  of  them,  the  purely  domestic  cares 
of  that  independent  principality  which  was  called  a 
plantation. 

Mr.  Perry  came  up  to  the  plantation  about  once  a 
week,  but  only  for  a  day  or  two  at  a  time.  His  stay 
would  be  shorter  than  Eunice  had  ever  known  it,  and 
there  was  anxiety  in  his  manner  which  it  had  never 
known  before.  Everything  combined  to  make  that 
an  anxious  year  for  Orleans.  Though  this  ridiculous 
intendant  had  pretended  not  to  know  the  secret  of 
its  transfer  to  France,  many  men  did  know  that  secret 
early  in  the  spring,  and  before  summer  all  men  knew  it. 
That  General  Victor  with  an  army  of  twenty-five 
thousand  Frenchmen  was  on  his  way  to  take  posses- 
sion, was  a  rumor  which  came  with  almost  every 
vessel  from  Philadelphia  or  from  England.  General 
Victor  and  his  army  did  not  appear.  What  did  ap- 
pear was  another  army,  a  starving  army  of  poor 
French  men  and  women  from  San  Domingo,  driven 
out  by  a  new  wave  of  the  insurrection  there.  It  was 


368  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

not  the  first  of  such  arrivals.  They  always  made 
care  and  anxiety  for  the  little  colony.  Not  only  were 
the  poor  people  to  be  provided  for,  but  the  cause  of 
their  coming  had  to  be  talked  over  in  every  family 
in  Louisiana.  A  successful  rising  of  slaves  in  San 
Domingo  had  to  be  discussed  in  the  hearing  and 
presence  of  slaves  now  well  enough  satisfied  in  Louisi- 
ana. This  year,  this  anxiety  had  reached  its  height. 
The  Spanish  intendant,  who  had  precipitated  war  on 
his  own  head  from  up  the  river,  so  soon  as  the  West- 
ern sharp-shooters  could  arrive,  frightened  himself 
and  his  people  to  death  with  terrors  about  insurrec- 
tion within.  The  French  began  to  whisper  that  their 
own  countrymen  were  coming.  The  handful  of 
Americans  chafed  under  the  unrighteous  restriction 
on  the  trade  for  which  they  lived  there. 

"  BY  THE  KING. 

A  proclamation ! 
In  the  name  of  the  King ! 
Know  all  men : 

That  His  Most  Christian  Majesty  commands  that  the  sale  of 
all  clocks  bearing  upon  them  the  figure  of  a  woman,  whether 
sitting  or  standing,  wearing  the  cap  of  Liberty,  or  bearing  a 
banner  in  her  hand,  is  henceforth,  forever,  absolutely  prohibited 
in  the  colony  of  Louisiana. 

Let  all  faithful  subjects  of  his  Majesty  govern  themselves 
accordingly. 

Long  live  the  King." 

To  see  such  a  proclamation  printed  in  the  miser- 
able "  Gazette,"  or  posted  at  the  corner  of  the  street, 
was  something  to  laugh  at;  and  at  the  old  jealousies 
of  other  days,  between  the  French  circle  and  the 
Spanish  circle,  Mr.  Perry  could  afford  to  laugh  again. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  369 

But  here,  in  matters  much  more  important,  was 
jealousy  amounting  to  hatred,  for  causes  many  of 
which  were  real;  and  every  man's  hand,  indeed, 
seemed  to  be  against  his  brother. 

It  was  therefore,  at  best,  but  a  sad  summer  and 
autumn;  and  Miss  Perry  succeeded  in  persuading 
her  brother  to  remove  the  little  family  to  the  city 
earlier  than  was  their  custom,  that  he  might  at  least 
have  in  town  what  she  called  home  comforts,  and 
that,  if  anything  did  happen,  they  might  at  least  be 
all  together. 

"We  cannot  be  of  much  use,"  she  said;  "  but  at 
least  we  shall  be  of  no  harm.  Besides,  if  we  go,  we 
shall  take  Ransom :  I  know  he  will  be  a  convenience 
to  you,  and  you  may  need  him  of  a  sudden." 

Whether  Ransom  would  be  of  any  real  service,  Mr. 
Perry  doubted.  But  it  was  very  true  that  he  was 
glad  to  have  his  cheerful  little  family  together;  and 
in  the  comfort  of  a  quiet  evening  to  forget  the 
intrigues,  the  plots,  the  alarms,  and  the  absurd 
speculations  which  were  discussed  every  day  in  his 
counting-room,  now  that  there  was  little  other  busi- 
ness done  there.  In  the  old  palmy  days  of  Governor 
Miro,  even  under  the  later  dynasties  of  Casa  Calvo 
and  Gayoso,  if  any  such  complications  threatened  as 
now  impended,  Mr.  Perry  would  have  been  among 
the  favored  counsellors  of  the  viceroy ;  for  viceroys 
these  governors  were.  He  would  not  have  hesitated 
himself  to  call,  and  to  offer  advice  which  he  knew 
would  be  well  received.  But  times  were  changed, 
indeed.  Instead  of  one  king,  there  were  three.  Here 
was  Morales,  the  intendant,  pretending  that  he  did 

24 


37°  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

not  care  whether  Governor  Salcedo  approved  or  did 
not  approve  of  his  doings.  Here  was  Salcedo  him- 
self: was  he  old  enough  to  be  foolish  and  in  his 
dotage,  as  some  people  thought?  or  was  he  pretend- 
ing to  be  a  fool,  and  really  pulling  all  the  strings  be- 
hind the  curtain?  And  here  was  young  Salcedo,  his 
son,  puffing  about,  and  pretending  to  manage  every- 
body and  everything. 

One  night,  at  a  public  ball,  this  young  Salcedo  set 
everybody  by  the  ears.  The  men  drew  swords,  and 
the  women  fainted.  Just  as  the  dance  was  to  begin, 
and  the  band  began  playing  a  French  contra-dance, 
the  young  braggart  cried  out,  "  English  dances, 
English  dances  !  "  He  was  a  governor's  son :  should 
he  not  rule  the  ballroom?  Anyway,  the  band-mas- 
ter feared  and  obeyed,  and  began  on  English  contra- 
dances.  The  young  French  gallants  would  not  stand 
this,  and  cried  out,  "  French,  French,  French ! " 
There  were  not  Spaniards  enough  to  outcry  them ; 
but  Salcedo,  and  those  there  were,  drew  their  swords. 
The  Frenchmen  drew  theirs.  The  women  screamed. 
The  American  and  English  gentlemen  let  the  others 
do  the  fighting,  while  they  carried  the  fainting  women 
out.  The  captain  of  the  guard  marched  in  with  a  file 
of  soldiers,  presented  bayonets,  and  proceeded  to 
clear  the  hall.  It  was  only  this  absurd  extreme 
which  brought  people  to  terms.  The  women  were 
revived,  and  the  dancing  went  on.  What  with  young 
Salcedo's  folly,  old  Salcedo's  jealousy,  and  Morales's 
wrong-headedness,  some  such  bad-blooded  quarrel 
filled  people's  ears  every  day. 

Under  such  circumstances,  the  simple  life  of  the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  371 

city  had  all  gone.  Mr.  Perry's  counsels,  once  always 
respected  at  headquarters,  were  worthless  now. 

This  intendant  knew  his  estimate  among  the  Amer- 
icans, and  with  their  nation,  only  too  well;  but  he 
pretended  to  make  that  a  reason  for  distrusting  him. 
The  absurd  dread  of  the  Americans,  which  first 
showed  itself  in  the  treachery  to  poor  Philip  Nolan, 
showed  itself  now  in  unwillingness  to  hear  what  even 
the  most  cautious  Americans  had  to  say. 

In  the  midst  of  such  anxieties,  as  they  expected 
Roland  from  hour  to  hour,  there  came  in  his  place, 
by  the  way  of  Natchez,  only  this  not  very  satisfactory 
letter :  — 

ROLAND  PERRY  TO  EUNICE  PERRY. 

FORT  MASSAC,  Aug.  31,  1802. 

MY  DEAR  AUNT,  —  We  have  been  up  the  Cumberland 
River ;  and  I  am  convinced  that  I  have  seen  the  ruins  of 
dear  Ma-ry's  home.  There  is  not  stick  nor  stem  standing 
of  the  village,  —  save  some  wretched  charred  beams  of  the 
saw- mill,  all  covered  with  burrs  and  briars  and  bushes. 
But  that  this  is  the  place,  you  may  be  sure.  We  have  been 
up  to  the  next  settlement,  which  was  planted  only  three 
years  later;  and  they  know  the  whole  sad  story,  just  as 
Gen.  Bowles  has  told  you.  The  bloody  brutes  came  in  on 
the  sleeping  village,  just  in  the  dead  of  night.  The  people 
had  hardly  a  chance  to  fire  a  shot,  none  to  rally  in  their 
defence.  They  slaughtered  all  the  men,  and,  as  these 
people  said,  they  slaughtered  all  the  women ;  but  it  seems 
dear  Ma-ry  and  her  mother  were  saved. 

Which  baby  she  is,  from  which  mother  of  these  eight  or 
ten  families,  of  course  I  cannot  tell,  nor  can  these  people. 
But  they  say  that,  at  Natchez,  there  is  an  old  lady  who  can. 


372  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

An  old  Mrs.  Willson,  —  all  these  people  were  Scotch-Irish 
from  Carolina,  —  an  old  Mrs.  Willson  came  on  to  join  her 
daughter,  and  arrived  the  spring  after  the  massacre.  Poor 
old  soul,  she  had  no  money  to  go  back.  She  has  loitered 
and  loitered  here,  till  only  two  years  ago.  Then  she  said 
there  would  be  more  chance  of  her  hearing  news  of  her 
child  if  she  went  farther  south  and  west;  and  so  when 
somebody  moved  to  Natchez  he  took  with  him  this  Mother 
Ann ;  and,  if  she  is  alive,  she  is  there  still. 

She  is  possibly  our  Ma-ry's  grandmother.  If  anybody 
knows  anything  of  the  dear  child's  birth,  it  is  she. 

And  this  is  all  I  can  tell.  I  am  sorry  it  is  so  little  \  so  is 
poor  Lonsdale,  —  the  heartiest,  most  loyal  companion,  as 
he  is  the  most  accomplished  gentleman,  it  was  ever  a  young 
fellow's  luck  to  travel  with.  You  will  think  this  is  very 
little ;  but  it  has  cost  us  weeks  of  false  starts  and  lost  clews 
to  get  at  what  I  send  you. 

You  will  not  wonder  that  you  do  not  see  me.  You  will 
believe  me  that  I  am  well  employed.  Make  much  love  for 
me  to  dear  Ma-ry  and  to  my  darling  Een. 

Always  your  own  boy, 

ROLAND  PERRY. 

This  letter  had  been  a  strangely  long  time  coming. 
Had  it  perhaps  been  held  by  the  Spanish  authorities 
somewhere?  Eunice  had  another  letter,  a  letter  in 
Lonsdale's  handwriting ;  but  she  read  Roland's  first, 
and  then,  grieved  and  surprised  that  her  boy  was  not 
coming,  she  gave  it  to  his  father. 

Mr.  Perry  read  with  equal  surprise  and  with  equal 
grief. 

"  What  does  it  mean?"  said  she. 

"It  means/'  said  he,  after  a  pause,  —  "it  means 


or,  Show  your  Passports  373 

that  he  thought  the  chances  were  that  the  coast-guard 
would  get  that  letter,  and  so  it  must  tell  very  little." 
Then,  after  another  pause,  "  Eunice,  I  am  afraid  it 
means  that  the  boy  has  mixed  himself  up  with  re- 
cruiting the  Kentuckians  to  come  down  here  on  the 
next  rise  of  the  river.  Why  they  did  not  come  on 
the  last  rise,  is  a  wonder  to  me;  but  I  suppose  they 
were  waiting  for  these  fools  to  strike  the  last  blow. 
They  have  struck  it  now.  As  I  told  you,  Morales 
has  published  his  '  interdict/  The  old  fool  Salcedo 
pretends  to  shake  his  head ;  but  it  is  published  all 
the  same,  and,  now  they  have  done  it,  they  shake  at 
every  wind.  They  believe,  at  the  Government  House, 
that  twenty  thousand  armed  men,  mounted  on  horses 
or  alligators  or  both,  are  now  on  their  way.  The 
intendant  shakes  in  his  shoes,  as  he  walks  from  mass 
to  his  office.  Roland  has  been  bred  a  soldier.  He 
is  an  eager  American.  He  certainly  has  not  stayed 
for  nothing,  when  his  heart  and  everything  else  calls 
him  here.  What  does  your  Mr.  Lonsdale  say?  " 

Mr.  Lonsdale  said  very  little  that  could  be  read 
aloud,  as  it  proved.  In  briefer  language  than  Roland's 
he  told  substantially  the  same  story.  Mother  Ann, 
at  Natchez,  —  if  Mother  Ann  still  lived,  —  was  the 
person  to  be  consulted  regarding  Ma-ry's  lineage. 

There  seemed  to  be  more  in  Mr.  Lonsdale's  letter 
than  was  read  aloud  to  Mr.  Perry,  or  even  to  Inez. 
But  poor  Inez  was  growing  used  to  secrets  and  to 
mysteries.  Poor  girl !  she  knew  that  of  one  thing  she 
never  spoke  to  Aunt  Eunice.  Who  was  she,  to  make 
Aunt  Eunice  tell  everything  to  her?  It  seemed  to 
her  that  the  world  was  growing  mysterious.  Her 


374  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

lover  left  her,  if  he  were  her  lover,  and  never  said  a 
word  to  tell  her  he  loved  her;  and  no  man  knew 
where  his  body  lay.  Her  dear  Ma-ry,  her  other  self, 
was  caged  up  on  the  other  side  of  those  hateful  bars. 
Her  own  darling  brother,  lost  so  long,  and  only  just 
back  again,  —  he  had  disappeared  too.  Nothing  but 
these  letters,  months  old,  to  tell  what  had  become  of 
him.  And  now,  when  Aunt  Eunice  had  a  letter  from 
where  he  was,  that  letter  was  not  read  to  Inez,  as 
once  every  letter  was :  it  was  simply  put  away  after 
one  miserable  scrap  had  been  read  aloud,  and  people 
began  discussing  the- situation  as  if  this  letter  had 
never  come. 

But  the  letters  were  to  work  Inez  more  woe  than 
this ;  for  Eunice  determined  to  follow  up,  as  soon  as 
might  be,  the  clew  they  gave. 

So  was  it,  that  some  weeks  after,  when  a  change 
was  to  be  made  in  the  Spanish  garrison  at  Concordia, 
opposite  Natchez,  she  availed  herself  of  the  escort  of 
a  friendly  officer  going  up  the  river,  who  was  taking 
his  wife  with  him,  and  determined  for  herself  to  make 
an  inquiry  at  that  village  for  "  Mother  Ann."  She 
had  never  ceased  to  feel  that  on  her,  first  of  all,  rested 
the  responsibility  in  determining  Ma-ry's  future,  and 
in  unravelling  the  history  of  her  past. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  375 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

ALONE 

"  Much  was  in  little  writ,  and  all  conveyed 
With  cautious  care,  for  fear  to  be  betrayed 
By  some  false  confidant,  or  favorite  maid." 

DRYDEN. 

"  AH,  well !  "  wrote  Inez,  in  the  queer  little  journal 
which  she  tried  to  keep  in  those  days,  "  so  I  am  to 
learn  what  life  is.  They  take  their  turns ;  but  one 
after  another  of  these  I  love  most  leaves  me,  till  I  am 
now  almost  alone.  I  will  try  not  to  be  ungrateful, 
but  I  am  very  lonely." 

And  here  the  poor  girl  stopped ;  and  such  was  the 
eventfulness  of  her  life  for  weeks  after,  that  she  does 
not  come  to  the  diary  again.  As  it  is  apt  to  happen 
in  our  somewhat  limited  human  life,  the  people  who 
have  most  to  do  have  little  chance,  or  little  spirit,  to 
sit  down  night  by  night,  to  tell  on  paper  how  they 
did  it. 

Her  aunt's  absence  must  of  necessity  be  three  or 
four  weeks  in  length.  They  parted  with  tears,  you 
may  be  sure.  It  was  the  first  time  they  had  been 
parted,  for  so  long  a  separation,  since  Inez  could  re- 
member. She  was  now  indeed  put  to  the  test  to 
show  how  well  she  could  carry  on  the  duties  of  the 
head  of  the  household. 

And  Chloe  and  Antoine,  and  even  old  Ransom, 
would  come  to  her  for  orders,  in  the  most  respectful 
way,  from  day  to  day.  "  As  if  I  did  not  know,"  Inez 


376  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

said  to  Ma-ry,  in  one  of  their  convent  interviews, 
"  that  they  were  all  going  to  do  just  what  they 
thought  best,  and  as  if  they  did  not  know  that  I 
knew  it." 

Once  a  fortnight,  under  the  rules  for  girls'  schools, 
which  St.  Ursula  had  arranged  before  the  barba- 
rians had  cut  off  her  head  at  Cologne,  Inez  was 
permitted  to  visit  Ma-ry  for  an  hour  in  the  convent 
parlor.  Once  a  month,  under  some  such  dispensation 
from  the  holy  father  at  Rome  as  has  been  spoken  of, 
Ma-ry  was  able  to  return  the  visit  for  the  better  part 
of  a  day.  For  the  rest,  their  intercourse  went  on  in 
correspondence,  with  the  restriction,  not  pleasing  to 
two  such  young  ladies,  that  the  letters  on  both  sides 
were  to  be  examined  before  they  reached  their  desti- 
nation by  Sister  Barbara.  Inez  took  such  comfort 
as  she  could,  by  going  to  mass  on  Sunday  at  the 
chapel  of  St.  Ursula,  where  she  could  see  Ma-ry,  and 
Ma-ry  could  see  her.  But,  excepting  these  comforts, 
the  two  girls  had  to  live  on  in  hope  that  Whit- 
Sunday  would  come  at  last,  and  then  Ma-ry  was  to 
be  liberated  from  the  study  and  the  imprisonment 
to  which  she  had  so  bravely  submitted. 

Poor  Inez's  anxieties  were  not  to  be  the  questions 
of  good  or  bad  coffee,  or  tender  steaks  or  tough. 
Everything  seemed  to  conspire  against  the  peace  of 
that  little  community;  and  in  that  little  community 
the  bolts  seemed  to  fall  hottest  and  fastest  on  the 
household  of  Silas  Perry. 

The  community  itself  was  in  the  most  feverish  con- 
dition. Monsieur  Laussat  had  arrived,  with  a  com- 
mission from  the  First  Consul  to  govern  the  colony, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  377 

as  soon  as  it  was  transferred  by  Spain ;  for  all  mys- 
tery about  the  transfer  from  Spain  to  France  was 
now  over.  Besides  old  Salcedo,  "  moribund,"  and 
young  Salcedo,  impudent  and  interfering,  and  the 
Intendant  Morales,  idiotic  and  pig-headed,  here  was 
this  pretentious  popinjay,  Laussat. 

You  would  have  said  that  the  French  people 
would  have  been  pleased:  now  they  could  dance 
French  contra-dances  when  they  chose. 

Not  so  much  pleased.  The  Spanish  rule  had  been 
very  mild.  Hardly  a  tax,  hardly  any  interference, 
before  this  fool  came  in.  Oh  for  the  old  days  of 
Miro,  and  then  we  would  not  ask  for  any  French 
ruler ! 

And  Monsieur  Laussat,  or  Citizen  Laussat,  without 
a  soldier  to  walk  behind  him  or  before  him,  with 
nothing  but  a  uniform  and  a  few  clerks,  is  swelling 
and  puffing,  and  talking  of  what  our  army  is  going 
to  do. 

But  where  is  "  our  army  "? 

It  does  not  come. 

Governor  Salcedo  invites  him  to  dinner,  and  is 
civil.  Young  Salcedo  makes  faces  behind  his  back, 
and  is  rude.  Meanwhile  the  bishop  is  cross  with  the 
Free-Masons,  and  says  the  Jacobins  are  coming; 
and  all  the  timid  people  are  watching  the  negroes, 
and  say  Christophe  or  Dessalines  is  coming.  Men 
who  never  sat  up  all  night,  except  at  a  revel,  are 
watching  their  own  kitchens  for  fear  of  secret 
meetings. 

"  Ah  me  !  "  poor  Inez  says,  "  were  there  ever  such 
hateful  times?  When  will  Roland  come?  When  will 


378  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Aunt  Eunice  come?  When  can  I  go  back  to  the 
plantation?  " 

One  afternoon  Mr.  Perry  came  home  later  than 
usual,  and  looked  even  more  troubled  than  usual. 
He  changed  his  coat,  and  made  ready  for  dinner, 
apologized  to  Inez  for  making  her  dinner  late,  and 
then  bade  the  servant  call  Ransom. 

"  I  do  not  think  he  is  in,  papa.  He  has  not  come 
home  since  I  sent  him  down  to  you." 

"  Why,  that,"  said  her  father,  "  was  but  little  after 
noon.  He  came,  and  I  gave  him  his  papers  for  the 
'  Hannah/  The  '  Hannah  '  cast  loose,  and  was  gone 
in  twenty  minutes.  Tarbottle  stood  on  the  quarter, 
and  waved  his  hat  to  me,  as  they  drifted  by  the 
office.  Where  can  the  old  fellow  have  gone?" 

These  were  the  first  words,  remembered  for  days 
afterward,  about  a  mysterious  disappearance  of  the 
good  old  man.  One  more  of  Inez's  stand-bys  out  of 
the  way. 

For  that  afternoon  Mr.  Perry  gave  himself  no 
care.  So  often  was  Ransom  out  of  the  way  that 
there  was  an  open  jest  in  the  family,  which  pretended 
that  he  was  major-domo  in  another  household,  and 
spent  half  of  his  time  in  it.  Mr.  Perry  needed  him 
this  evening ;  but  he  often  needed  him  when  he  had 
to  do  without  him.  He  merely  directed  that  word 
should  be  brought  to  him  of  Ransom's  return,  and 
made  no  inquiry. 

But  when  it  appeared,  the  next  morning,  that 
Ransom  had  not  slept  at  home,  matters  looked  more 
serious.  A  theory  was  started  that  he  had  gone 
down  the  river  with  the  "  Hannah,"  to  return  with 


or,  Show  your  Passports  379 

the  river-pilot;  but  an  express  to  the  vessel,  which 
was  making  but  slow  progress,  settled  that  idea.  A 
message  up  to  the  plantation  showed  that  he  was  not 
there.  A  note  from  Captain  Tarbottle  made  sure 
that  the  old  fellow  had  landed  safely  from  the  brig ; 
but  from  that  moment  not  a  word  could  be  heard  of 
poor  Ransom. 

Mr.  Perry's  anxiety  was  much  greater  than  he 
could  describe  to  Inez.  The  girl  was  so  much 
attached  to  her  old  protector  that  his  death  would  be 
to  her  a  terrible  calamity.  To  Inez,  therefore,  Mr. 
Perry  affected  much  more  confidence  than  he  felt. 
The  truth  was,  that  if  the  old  man  had  not  carried 
much  such  a  charmed  life  as  crazy  men  carry  in 
Islam,  he  would  have  been  put  out  of  the  way  long 
before.  In  this  mixed  chaotic  population  of  French, 
Spanish,  Portuguese,  Italians,  Sicilians,  English,  Irish, 
negroes,  and  Indians,  Ransom  was  going  and  coming, 
announcing  from  moment  to  moment,  to  men's  faces, 
that  they  were  all  thieves  and  liars  and  worse.  How 
he  had  escaped  without  a  thousand  hand-to-hand 
battles  was  and  had  been  a  mystery  to  Silas  Perry. 
Now  that  Ransom  was  gone,  his  own  conviction  was 
simply  that  the  hour  had  come,  which  had  been  post- 
poned as  by  a  miracle.  After  three  days  of  inquiry, 
he  was  certain  that  he  should  never  see  Ransom 
again.  The  blow  of  a  dirk,  and  a  plash  into  the 
river,  would  make  little  echo;  and  the  Mississippi 
tells  no  tales. 

No  one  said  this  to  poor  Inez ;  but  poor  Inez  was 
not  such  a  fool  but  she  suspected  it.  She  did  not 
like  to  tell  her  father  how  much  she  suspected,  and 


380  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

how  much  she  feared.  She  did  write  to  her  aunt; 
and  she  poured  out  her  fears,  without  hesitation,  to 
Ma-ry.  If  Sister  Barbara  or  Sister  Horrida  wanted 
to  read  this,  they  were  welcome. 

Weary  with  such  anxieties,  the  poor  girl  sat  waiting 
for  her  father  one  evening,  even  later  than  on  the  day 
when  Ransom  disappeared.  At  last  she  called  An- 
toine  to  know  if  his  master  had  spoken  of  a  late 
dinner.  "  No,  monsieur  had  said  nothing."  Then 
Antoine  might  make  ready  to  walk  with  her  to  the 
counting-room ;  and  Antoine  might  take  a  bottle  of 
claret  with  him :  perhaps  her  father  was  not  well. 

The  sun  had  fairly  set.  The  twilight  is  very  short ; 
and  even  at  that  hour  the  street,  never  much  fre- 
quented, was  still.  The  girl  almost  flew  over  the 
ground  in  her  eagerness.  But  the  counting-room 
was  wholly  locked  up;  no  one  was  there.  Indeed, 
no  one  was  in  the  neighborhood. 

Papa  must  have  stopped  at  Mr.  Ruling's.  They 
would  walk  round  that  way;  and  they  did  so.  With 
as  clear  a  voice  as  she  could  command,  and  with  well- 
acted  indifference,  she  called  across  the  yard  to  Mr. 
Huling,  who  was  smoking  in  his  gallery,  and  who  ran 
to  her  as  soon  as  he  recognized  her  voice. 

No.  As  it  happened,  he  had  not  seen  Mr.  Perry 
all  day.  He  expected  him,  but  Mr.  Perry  had  not 
come  round.  He  had  thought  he  might  have  gone 
up  the  river.  Had  Miss  Perry  any  news  of  old 
Ransom? 

Mr.  Huling  was  the  American  vice-consul,  and 
Inez  was  half  tempted  to  open  her  whole  budget  of 
terrors  to  him.  But  she  knew  this  would  displease 


or,  Show  your  Passports  381 

her  father.  Indeed,  he  was  probably  at  home  by  this 
time,  waiting  for  her.  She  said  as  much  to  her 
friend,  left  a  message  for  the  ladies,  and  withdrew. 
So  soon  as  she  had  passed  the  garden  she  fairly  ran 
home. 

No  father  there ! 

A  message  to  the  book-keeper  brought  him  round 
to  wonder  but  to  suggest  nothing.  Mr.  Perry  had 
left  the  counting-room  rather  earlier  than  usual,  had 
walked  down  the  river-bank:  that  was  all  any  one 
had  observed.  The  old  man  was  not  a  person  of 
resource,  and  could  only  express  sympathy. 

And  so  poor  Inez  was  left  indeed  alone.  What  a 
night  that  was  to  her !  How  it  recalled  the  horrible 
night  on  the  Little  Brassos !  Only  then  it  was  she 
who  had  drifted  away  from  the  rest  of  them  :  now  she 
was  the  fixture,  and  everybody  —  everybody  she 
loved  —  had  drifted  away  from  her.  On'e  by  one, 
they  had  all  gone.  Nobody  to  talk  to,  nobody  to 
consult,  nobody  even  to  cry  with.  Ma-ry  gone, 
Roland  gone,  her  aunt  gone,  poor  old  Ransom  gone, 
and  now  papa  gone !  Vainly  she  tried  to  persuade 
herself  that  she  was  a  fool ;  that  papa  was  at  Daniel 
Clark's  card-party,  or  had  stopped  for  a  cup  of  tea 
with  the  Joneses.  But  really  she  knew  that  papa  did 
not  do  such  things  without  dressing,  and  without 
sending  word  home.  Papa  would  never  frighten  her 
so.  She  tried  to  imagine  sudden  exigencies  on  ship- 
board which  might  have  called  him  down  the  river  for 
the  night.  This  was  a  little  more  hopeful.  But  she 
did  not  in  her  heart  believe  this,  and  she  knew  she 
did  not.  The  girl  was  too  much  her  father's  confi- 


382  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

dante,  he  talked  with  her  quite  too  freely  and  wisely 
about  his  affairs,  for  her  to  pretend  to  take  this  com- 
fort solidly. 

She  went  through  the  form  of  ordering  in  the 
dinner,  and  ordering  it  out  again.  She  wrapped  her 
shawl  around  her,  and  sat  on  the  gallery,  to  catch  the 
first  footstep.  Footstep  !  No  footsteps  in  that  street 
after  nine  at  night !  She  watched  the  stars,  and  saw 
them  pass  down  behind  the  magnolias.  When  Fo- 
malhaut  was  fairly  out  of  sight,  she  would  give  it  up 
and  go  to  bed.  As  if  she  could  sleep  to-night ! 

And  yet,  poor  tired  child,  she  did  sleep ;  she  slept 
then  and  there.  And  she  dreamed.  What  did  she 
dream  of  ?  Ah  me  !  What  did  poor  Inez  dream  of 
most  often?  She  was  sitting  in  the  gallery.  Her 
shawl  was  round  her  head,  as  she  dreamed ;  and 
there  was  a  quick  footstep  in  the  street.  Then  some 
one  stopped,  and  knocked  hard  at  the  street-gate. 
And  then,  as  she  sat,  she  could  see  a  head  above  the 
gate, — a  head  without  a  hat  on.  And  the  head 
spoke  in  the  darkness;  it  cried  loud:  "  Ransom, 
Ransom  !  Caesar,  Caesar  !  Miss  Eunice,  Miss  Eunice ! 
Miss  Inez,  Miss  Inez !  " 

It  was  the  head  of  William  Harrod,  and  it  was 
William  Harrod's  voice  which  called. 

Inez  was  well  waked  now.  With  one  hand  she 
seized  the  hall-bell,  and  rang  it  loud  to  call  Antoine. 
She  dashed  down  the  steps,  not  waiting  an  instant, 
nor  seeing  the  winding  garden-path.  She  rushed 
across  the  circular  grass-plat,  and  through  the  shrub- 
bery to  the  gate.  She  unbolted  the  gate,  flung  it 
back,  and  threw  it  open.  But  there  was  no  one 


or,  Show  your  Passports  383 

there !  Inez  thought  she  heard  receding  steps  in  the 
darkness ;  but,  if  so,  it  was  but  an  instant.  By  the 
time  Antoine  was  by  her  side,  all  was  midnight 
silence. 

The  girl  compelled  the  frightened  Antoine  to  run 
with  her  to  the  corner  of  the  street.  But  all  was  still 
as  death  in  the  cross-street  to  which  she  led  him. 
And  she  was  obliged  to  return  to  the  house,  wonder- 
ing, had  she  been  asleep,  and  had  she  dreamed? 
Could  dreams  be  as  life-like  as  this  was?  Inez  con- 
fessed to  herself  that  she  had  dreamed  of  William 
Harrod  before ;  but  never  had  she  seen  his  face  or 
heard  his  voice  in  a  dream  which  had  such  reality  as 
this. 

It  will  not  do  to  say  that  she  passed  a  sleepless 
night.  There  are  few  sleepless  nights  to  girls  of  her 
age  and  health.  But  the  sleep  was  broken  by 
dreams,  and  they  were  always  dreams  of  horror. 
All  alone  she  was  indeed ;  and  such  was  their  life  in 
Orleans,  that  there  were  strangely  few  people  to 
whom  the  girl  could  turn  for  counsel. 

So  soon  as  she  thought  it  would  answer  in  the 
morning,  she  went  out  herself  to  see  Mr.  Huling, 
resolved  to  intrust  all  her  agonies  to  him,  as  she 
should  have  done  at  the  first,  she  now  thought.  Alas  ! 
at  sunrise,  Mr.  Huling  had  gone  down  the  river,  on  an 
errand  at  the  Balize,  which  would  detain  him  many 
days.  There  was  only  a  consul's  clerk,  a  stranger, 
clearly  inefficient,  though  willing  enough,  with  whom 
Inez  could  confide.  She  did  intrust  him  with  her 
story,  but  she  did  not  make  him  feel  its  importance. 
He  promised  her,  however,  to  call  on  Mr.  Daniel 


384  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Clark  or  Mr.  Jones,  and  on  young  Mr.  Bingaman, 
and  to  be  governed  by  their  advice.  He  undertook 
to  persuade  her  that  she  was  unduly  alarmed.  Her 
father  was  visiting  some  friend.  He  would  be  back 
before  the  day  was  over.  For  such  is  the  way  in 
which  ignorant  and  inefficient  men  usually  treat 
women. 

Inez  had  more  success  in  rousing  the  interest  and 
sympathy  of  Mr.  Pollock,  one  of  her  father's  com- 
panions and  friends.  But  even  he,  interested  as  he 
was,  did  not  want  to  alarm  the  city  vainly.  Nor  did 
Inez  want  to.  He  sent  an  express  to  the  plantation, 
and  lost  half  a  day  so,  in  justifying  Inez  in  her  cer- 
tainty that  her  father  was  not  there.  And  in  such 
useless  fritter,  which  she  knew  was  useless,  the  day 
was  wasted,  before  he  brought  the  consul's  clerk  to 
an  understanding  of  who  Silas  Perry  was,  and  that 
some  inquiry  as  to  his  welfare  was  incumbent  on  the 
Americans  in  Orleans,  and  on  those  who  represented 
them. 

A  horrible  day  to  Inez.  She  was  becoming  a 
woman  very  fast  now. 

Just  before  dark,  when  her  loneliness  seemed  the 
most  bitter;  when  she  had  done  everything  she 
could  think  of  doing,  had  turned  every  stone,  and 
felt  that  she  had  utterly  failed,  that  she  had  as  little 
resource  as  poor  old  Monsieur  Desbigny  the  book- 
keeper had,  —  she  heard  an  unexpected  sound  ;  and 
one  of  the  little  Chihuahua  dogs  which  the  girls  had 
brought  with  them  from  Antonio  —  the  token  of  Mr. 
Lonsdale's  attention  —  jumped  upon  her  lap. 

"  One  being  that  has  not  left  me,  that  tries  to  find 


or,  Show  your  Passports  385 

me."  This  was  Inez's  first  thought,  as  she  fondled 
the  little  creature ;  and  there  was  a  sort  of  guilty 
thought  mingled  with  it,  that  she 
had  never  been  specially  attentive 
to  her  pet.  He  was  a  pretty  crea- 
ture, but  he  was  Mr.  Lonsdale's 
present.  Ma-ry  had  been  much 
more  attentive  to  hers;  but  Inez 
had  willingly  enough  left  her  dog 
to  a  little  black  boy  at  the  plan- 
tation. And  now  this  little  for- 
saken wretch,  grateful  for  such  scant 
favors  as  Inez  had  bestowed,  had 
followed  her  down  the  river.  How 
did  he  get  here  to  be  her  companion 
when  she  had  no  other? 

Are  you  sure  of  that,  Inez? 

As  she  bent  over  the  little  wretch 
to  fondle  him,  she  felt  a  real  sinking 
of  heart  at  finding  that  it  was  not 
Skip,  after  all,  but  Trip.  Now, 
Trip  was  Ma-ry's  dog,  and  not  hers. 
Trip  had  escaped  from  convent  fare 
to  the  more  luxurious  home  he  was 
first  used  to.  Inez  was  so  angry 
that  she  took  him  in  both  hands  to 
push  him  from  her  lap,  —  when  her 
hand  closed  on  a  little  bit  of  paper 
wound  tightly  round  his  back  leg, 
so  colored  with  charcoal  as  to  match 
the  hairless  skin  precisely. 

In  an  instant  Inez  had   clipped 
25 


386  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

the  thread  which  bound  it,  and  took  the  scrap  to  the 
light. 

As  it  unrolled,  it  was  a  strip  of  paper  several  inches 
long,  very  narrow.  Not  one  word  of  writing  on  it ! 
Ma-ry  had  not  meant  to  risk  any  secrets.  But  in 
dingy  red  characters,  —  Inez  knew  only  too  well  where 
that  red  came  from,  —  in  the  Indian  hieroglyphic 
with  which  she  and  Ma-ry  had  whiled  away  so 
many  rainy  days,  was  a  legend  which  answered, 
oh,  so  many  questions ! 

There  was  the  sign  of  Ransom,  an  eye  strangely 
cocked  up  to  heaven ;  the  sign  or  token  of  Mr.  Perry, 
two  feathers,  cut  in  the  shape  to  which  the  old- 
fashioned  penmen  always  trimmed  their  goose-quills. 
Around  these  signs  was  a  twisted  rope,  doubly 
wreathed.  And  Inez  knew  that  this  meant  that  both 
Mr.  Perry  and  Ransom  were  in  prison.  But  this  was 
not  all,  but  only  the  beginning.  In  long  series,  there 
was  the  rising  sun;  there  was  the  roof  of  a  house; 
there  was  a  hawk,  a  tree;  strange  devices  defying  all 
perspective  and  all  rules  of  design.  But  Inez  knew 
their  meaning,  and  wrought  out  the  sequence  from 
the  beginning.  The  legend  directed  her  to  take,  with 
her  brother's  field-glass,  a  little  before  the  sun  rose 
the  next  morning,  some  station  from  which  she  could 
see  the  top  of  the  Ursuline  convent.  Ma-ry  could 
tell  her  by  the  pantomime  of  the  Indian  race  what 
she  dared  not  commit  to  paper,  for  fear  some  adept 
in  the  Indian  hieroglyphic  might  catch  poor  Trip  as 
he  worked  his  way  from  the  convent  garden. 

Of  all  the  wonders  which  Roland  had  brought  home 
from  Paris,  nothing  had  delighted  Ma-ry  so  much  as 


or,  Show  your  Passports  387 

this  field-glass,  which  he  had  selected  from  the  work- 
shop of  the  Lerebours  of  the  day.  Often  had  she 
expatiated  to  him  and  to  Inez  together,  on  the 
advantages  of  this  instrument  to  people  who  were 
surrounded  with  enemies.  More  than  once  had  Inez, 
and  once  in  particular,  as  she  now  remembered,  had 
her  aunt,  tried  to  explain  to  Ma-ry  that  as  most  peo- 
ple lived  they  were  not  surrounded  with  enemies,  and 
that  the  uses  of  the  field-glass  were,  in  fact,  pacific. 
But  this  girl  had  grown  up  with  the  habit  of  question- 
ing every  rustling  leaf.  She  had  not  been  persuaded 
out  of  her  theory.  All  this  talk  Inez  remembered 
to-night,  as  she  wiped  the  lenses  of  the  field-glass, 
and  as  she  reconnoitred  the  garden  to  make  sure 
which  magnolia-tree  best  commanded  the  roof  of  the 
Ursulines'  convent. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 

ALL  WILL  BE  WELL 
"  Short  exhortations  need."  —  Neptune  in  OVID. 

BEFORE  it  was  light,  —  long  before  the  time  Ma-ry 
had  indicated  in  her  blood-red  letter,  —  Inez  was 
working  her  way  up  the  tall  magnolia  which  stood 
south  of  the  house.  She  had  taken  a  garden-ladder 
to  the  lower  branches,  and  now  scrambled  up  without 
much  more  difficulty  than  the  lizards  which  she 
startled  as  she  did  so.  How  often  in  little-girl  days 
had  she  climbed  this  very  tree,  Ransom  approving 
and  directing!  And  how  well  she  remembered  the 
last  victorious  ascent  for  a  white  bud  that  seemed  to 
defy  all  assault ;  and  then,  alas  !  the  prohibition  which 


388  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

had  crowned  victory,  and  robbed  it  of  all  its 
laurels,  as  her  aunt  and  even  her  father  had  joined 
against  her,  and  bidden  her  never  climb  the  tree 
again ! 

Ah  me  !  if  only  either  of  them  were  here,  she  would 
not  disobey  them  now !  How  wretched  to  be  her 
own  mistress ! 

The  field-glass  was  swung  around  her  neck  by  its 
strap ;  and  the  girl  brought  in  her  hand  the  end  of  a 
long  narrow  pennon  of  white  cotton  cloth.  When 
she  had  attained  a  station  which  wholly  commanded 
the  roof  of  St.  Ursula's  shrine,  Inez  pulled  up  by  the 
pennon  a  fishing-rod  which  she  had  attached  to  it,  — 
one  of  the  long  canes  from  the  brake  which  are  the 
joy  of  the  Louisiana  anglers,  —  and  thrust  the  rod 
high  above  her  head  into  the  air,  so  that  the  pennon 
waved  bravely  in  the  morning  breeze.  With  this 
signal  Inez  knew  she  could  say,  "  I  understand,"  or 
by  rapid  negatives  could  order  anything  repeated. 

And  then  she  had  to  wait  and  wait  again,  her  eye 
almost  glued  to  the  eye-piece.  She  could  at  last 
count  the  tiles  on  the  roof-tree  of  the  convent.  She 
could  see  a  lazy  lizard  walk  over  them,  and  jump 
when  he  caught  flies.  The  Ursulines'  is  not  far  away 
from  Silas  Perry's  garden;  and,  but  for  the  more 
minute  signals  of  the  pantomime,  she  would  not  have 
needed  the  field-glass  at  all. 

Ready  as  she  was,  she  did  not  lose  one  moment  of 
poor  Ma-ry's  stolen  time.  Inez  at  last  saw  the  girl 
appear  upon  the  corridor  of  the  schoolroom,  —  what 
in  older  countries  would  have  been  called  a  cloister, 
and  perhaps  was  in  St.  Ursula's  fore-ordination.  She 


or,  Show  your  Passports  389 

passed  rapidly  along  to  the  corner  where  a  China-tree 
shaded  the  end  of  the  gallery.  Without  looking  be- 
hind her,  she  sprung  upon  the  railing;  she  was  in  the 
tree  in  a  moment,  and  in  a  moment  more  had  left  it, 
to  stand  unencumbered  on  the  roof  of  this  wing  of 
the  spacious  buildings. 

When  people  in  a  house  are  looking  for  a  person 
out  of  a  house,  there  is  no  point  so  difficult  for  them 
to  observe  as  the  top  of  that  house ;  and  there  is  no 
point  which  they  so  little  think  of  searching. 

Ma-ry  had  had  less  to  do  with  houses  than  any 
person  in  Orleans,  if  one  excepts  a  few  old  Caddo 
hags  who  crouched  around  the  market;  but  she  had 
made  the  observation  just  now  put  on  paper,  before 
she  had  been  in  Nacogdoches  an  hour. 

If  eleven  thousand  virgins  of  St.  Ursula  searched 
for  her  in  eleven  thousand  niches,  or  under  eleven 
thousand  beds,  they  would  not  find  her;  and,  while 
they  were  searching,  she  would  be  telling  the  truth, — 
a  business  at  which  she  was  good,  and  which  St. 
Ursula  herself  probably  would  not  disapprove. 

The  girl  turned  to  Silas  Perry's  garden,  saw  the 
pennon,  and  clapped  her  hands  gladly. 

The  pennon  waved  gracefully  in  sympathy. 

Then  the  pantomime  began.  Grief,  —  bitter  grief; 
certainty,  —  utter  certainty;  and  then  the  sign  for 
yesterday.  She  was  very  sorry  for  the  news,  she 
was  certain  it  was  true,  and  she  had  only  known 
it  yesterday. 

The  pennon  waved  gently  its  sympathy,  and  its 
steady  "  I  understand." 

The  girl  walked  freely  from  place  to  place,  and 


390  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

made  her  gestures  as  boldly  as  a  mistress  of  ballet 
would  do  in  presence  of  three  thousand  people. 

Ransom  was  taken  nine  days  ago.  He  is  now 
in  the  soldiers'  room  under  the  court-house,  next 
the  cathedral.  Ever  since,  they  have  been  trying 
to  find  Mr.  Perry  alone.  Day  before  yesterday 
they  found  him  and  took  him.  He  is  in  the  gov- 
ernor's own  house.  After  early  mass  yesterday,  one 
of  the  fathers  came  to  the  convent,  as  was  his  cus- 
tom. After  he  had  confessed  three  novices,  he 
had  a  talk  with  Sister  Barbara.  He  told  her  what 
Ma-ry  told  Inez.  Sister  Barbara  told  Sister  Helena, 
in  presence  of  a  Mexican  girl  whom  Ma-ry  had  been 
kind  to.  The  Mexican  girl  told  Ma-ry. 

Ma-ry  thought  that  Ransom  and  Mr.  Perry  were 
both  to  be  sent  to  Cuba. 

Cuba  was  intimated  by  an  island  which  would 
be  reached  by  a  voyage  of  ten  days,  —  an  island 
in  which  there  were  a  thousand  Spanish  soldiers. 

Lest  any  news  should  be  sent  after  this  vessel, 
an  embargo  on  all  vessels  would  be  ordered  for 
a  fortnight.  The  embargo  was  denoted  by  rowers, 
who  were  suddenly  stopped  in  their  paddling. 

Ma-ry  had  to  repeat  this  signal,  because  the 
pennon  waved  uncertainty.  When  she  was  sure  all 
was  understood,  she  kissed  her  hand,  and  then, 
pointing  to  the  rising  sun,  bade  Inez  keep  tryst 
the  next  day  but  one. 

The  glad  pennon  nodded  its  assent  cheerfully, 
and  Ma-ry  disappeared. 

News  indeed ! 

Inez  wrote  this  note  to  Mr.  Bingaman :  — 


or,  Show  your  Passports  391 

INEZ  PERRY  TO  MICAH  BINGAMAN. 

Thursday  Morning. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  BINGAMAN,  —  I  have  just  learned,  and  am 
certain,  that  my  father  is  in  confinement  in  the  government 
house. 

Old  Ransom,  our  servant,  who  disappeared  ten  days  ago, 
is  shut  up  closely  in  the  guard-house. 

Both  of  them  are  to  be  sent  to  Cuba ;  and,  for  fear  the 
news  shall  be  sent  down  the  river,  an  embargo  will  be 
proclaimed  to-day. 

I  beg  you  to  press  up  the  consul's  clerk  to  some  prompt 
action.  Cannot  Mr.  Clark  be  sent  for? 

Respectfully  yours, 

INEZ  PERRY. 

Well  written,  Inez !  You  are  becoming  a  woman, 
indeed !  Sister  Barbara  does  not  teach  one  to  write 
such  letters ;  and  I  am  not  sure  that  even  St.  Ursula 
fore-ordained  them  or  looked  down  to  them  through 
the  prophetic  vista  of  many  years. 

Antoine  was  sent  with  this  note  to  Mr.  Bingaman; 
and  really  glad,  for  the  first  time,  that  there  was  any- 
thing she  could  do,  Inez  ordered  her  breakfast,  and 
sat  down,  determining  very  fast  what  she  would 
do  next. 

And  this  time  the  girl  ate  her  breakfast  with  a  will. 

As  she  finished  it,  she  heard  a  question  at  the 
back  steps  of  the  corridor,  on  the  brick  walk  which 
led  to  the  kitchen,  and  then  a  sort  of  altercation 
with  the  smart  Antoine. 

"Ask  Miss  Perry,"  said  a  stranger  in  very  bad 
French,  which  Antoine  knew  was  no  Creole's,  "  if 
she  does  not  want  to  buy  some 


392  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Antoine  did  not  reflect  that  his  young  mistress 
overheard  every  word ;  and  with  accent  more  precise 
than  the  stranger's,  but  with  expression  far  less  civil, 
told  him  to  go  to  hell  with  his  sassafras,  that  the 
sassafras  of  Little  Vernon  was  worth  all  other  sassa- 
fras, and  that  he  was  to  leave  the  garden  as  soon  as 
might  be. 

Inez  needed  no  nerving  for  her  first  contest  with 
Antoine.  She  rang  sharply. 

"  Antoine,  you  are  never  to  speak  to  any  person 
so  in  my  house.  Go  beg  the  man's  pardon,  and  bid 
him  come  in." 

Antoine  went  out,  mumbled  some  apology,  and 
returned  much  crestfallen  with  the  huckster. 

Inez  had  never  said  "  my  house "  before. 

Inez  rose.  She  scarcely  looked  at  the  man,  who 
was,  indeed,  the  wildest  creature  that  even  the  Sun- 
day market  could  have  shown  her.  Bare  feet,  red 
with  mud  which  must  have  clung  to  them  for  days; 
trousers  of  skin  patched  with  cotorade,  or  cotorade 
patched  with  skin ;  hair  bushy  and  curling,  covering 
and  concealing  the  face ;  and  the  face  itself  browned 
so  that  it  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  it  were  In- 
dian, mulatto,  or  Spanish,  by  the  color.  A  miser- 
able Indian  blanket  torn  in  twenty  holes,  of  which 
the  largest  let  through  the  wearer's  head,  gave  the 
only  intimation  as  to  his  nationality. 

Inez  lifted  the  dried  leaves  in  her  hand,  tasted 
some  of  the  fibres  and  said, — 

"  Your  fite  is  very  good  ;  I  wish  you  had  brought 
us  more.  Take  the  basket  into  the  herb-room." 
Then  to  the  obsequious  Antoine,  who  led  the  way, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  393 

"No,  Antoine,  wait  at  the  gate  for  Mr.  Binga- 
man's  message:  or  no,  Antoine,  go  ask  him  if  he 
has  no  answer  for  me.  I  will  show  the  man  up- 
stairs." 

The  savage  shouldered  his  basket,  and  followed 
Inez.  She  threw  open  the  door  of  a  corner  room  in 
the  attic  story.  He  brought  the  basket  in,  and 
kicked  the  door  to  behind  him.  And  then,  and  not 
till  then,  did  Inez  rush  to  him.  She  seized  both  his 
hands  in  hers,  looked  upon  him  with  such  joy  as  an 
hour  before  she  would  have  said  was  impossible, 
and  then  said, — 

"Am  I  awake?  Can  it  be  true?  Where  did  you 
come  from?  " 

"Dear  Miss  Inez,"  said  Will  Harrod,  "it  is  true; 
you  are  wide  awake;  and  your  welcome,"  he  added 
boldly,  "  pays  for  the  sufferings  of  years." 

"  Welcome  !    You  knew  you  were  welcome,  Will ! " 

She  had  never  called  him  "Will"  before;  and 
they  both  knew  it.  Her  cheeks  flushed  fire,  and 
they  were  both,  oh !  so  glad  and  so  happy ! 

"  There  never  was  a  time  when  I  needed  you 
so  much,"  said  she  eagerly,  as  she  made  him  sit 
down. 

"  There  never  is  a  time  when  I  do  not  need  you," 
said  he  bravely. 

"  But  why  are  you  in  all  this  rig?  I  thought  I  must 
not  let  Antoine  know/' 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  right.  You  are  certainly 
prudent  and  wise.  Heavens !  How  careful  I  have 
been  for  the  last  forty-eight  hours!  Are  they  all 
crazy  here  ?  " 


394  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"  I  believe  the  governor  is  crazy.  The  intendant 
is  surely.  But  do  you  know  what  they  have  done? 
My  father  is  in  prison,  and  Ransom,  dear  old  Ran- 
som, too." 

"In  prison?" 

"  In  prison,  and  are  to  go  to  Cuba.  You  know 
what  that  means.  But  I  feel  now  as  if  something 
could  be  done,  now  you  are  here.  How  are  you 
here?  Oh,  Mr.  Harrod,  they  all  told  me  you  were 
dead  ! " 

And  here  the  poor  girl  fairly  cried,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment lost  her  self-command. 

"  Did  you  think  I  was  dead?  "  said  he  eagerly. 

"  Think  so?  I  knew  so  till  Tuesday  night:  then  I 
dreamed  I  saw  your  head  over  the  garden  gate,  and 
it  called  me,  —  twice  it  called  me." 

"Yes,"  said  Harrod,  laughing;  "and  it  called 
very  loud,  and  it  called  Caesar  and  Ransom  too. 
But,  before  anybody  could  come,  the  men  with 
sticks  were  after  the  head,  and  the  poor  head  had 
to  run,  and  to  hide  again  till  this  morning.  I  gave 
them  the  slip  this  time." 

"It  was  you?  It  was  you?  Then,  I  am  not  a 
fool !  But,  Mr.  Harrod,  you  called  Caesar :  do  you 
not  know?" 

"Know,  my  dearest  Miss  Inez?  I  know  nothing. 
I  only  know  that  after  escaping  from  those  rascally 
Comanches,  after  starving  to  sleep,  and  waking 
so  crazy  with  hunger  that  I  thought  I  was  in  purga- 
tory, after  such  a  story  of  struggle  and  misery  as 
would  touch  a  Turk's  heart,  I  came  out  at  Natchi- 
toches  for  help,  to  be  clapped  into  their  guard-house. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  395 

Then  I  knocked  two  idiots'  heads  together,  blew  out 
what  brains  one  had  with  his  own  gun,  trusted  to  my 
friendly  river  again,  and  worked  my  way  down  on  a 
log  to  Point  Coupe*,  to  be  arrested  again  by  a 
guarda  costa.  I  bided  my  time  till  they  were  all  blind 
drunk  one  night,  stole  their  boat,  and  floated  down 
here,  to  be  arrested,  this  time,  for  stealing  the  boat. 
But  I  am  used  to  breaking  bounds.  Tuesday  I 
took  refuge  with  some  friendly  Caddoes,  and  by 
Jove !  the  savage  protects  what  the  white  man 
hunts  to  death.  My  own  costume  was  not  so  select 
as  this.  I  owe  this  to  their  munificence/' 

"  I  thought  you  were  dressed  like  a  prince,"  said 
Inez,  frankly.  "Now  you  have  come,  all  will  be 
well." 

Then  came  a  little  consultation.  Inez  explained 
to  him  the  reign  of  terror  in  which  they  lived,  so  far 
as  it  could  be  explained.  But  she  found,  first  of  all, 
that  she  must  break  his  heart  by  telling  of  Phil 
Nolan's  fate,  and  Fanny  Lintot's.  All  through  his 
perils,  he  had  heard  no  word  of  that  massacre.  His 
calling  for  Caesar  had  given  her  the  first  suspicion  of 
his  ignorance. 

How  much  there  was  to  tell  him,  and  how  much 
for  him  to  tell  her ! 

Inez  bravely  told  the  horrid  story  of  Phil  Nolan's 
death.  She  told  him,  as  frankly  as  she  could,  why 
she  did  not  at  first  believe  that  he  was  in  the  party; 
and  then,  how  Caesar  had  confirmed  her.  But  all 
hope  for  his  life  was  over,  she  said,  when  Mr.  Perry 
had  found  the  news  of  Richards's  treason,  and  the 
others>  as  Mr.  Perry  had  found  it,  and  as  the  reader 


396  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

has  heard  it.  Two  years  had  gone  by  since  the  gay 
young  man  had  bidden  them  good-by  in  sight  of 
the  San  Antonio  crosses. 

"  But  now  you  have  come,"  she  said  again  bravely, 
"  all  will  be  well ;  and  now  we  must  look  forward, 
and  not  back.  Do  you  remember  that?" 

"  It  has  saved  my  life  a  hundred  times,"  said  he. 
"  God  only  knows  where  I  should  be,"  he  added 
reverently,  "  if  I  had  not  remembered  to  look  up, 
and  not  down." 

"  These  people  have  lost  the  track  of  you,  as  the 
knocker  of  heads  together.  You  have  now  only  to 
dress,  pardon  me,"  said  she,  really  merry  now  —  to 
think  that  she  should  ever  be  merry  again  !  —  "  and 
to  shave,  and  then  you  may  walk  unrecognized 
through  our  valiant  army.  Go  into  my  brother's 
room,"  she  said.  She  led  him  in,  and  unlocked  the 
wardrobes,  "  See  what  you  can  find:  there  must  be 
some  razors  somewhere." 

"  If  my  right  hand  has  not  lost  its  cunning,"  said 
Harrod,  entering  into  her  mood. 

"  Take  what  you  find,"  said  she.  "  I  wish  only 
dear  Roland  were  here  to  help  you.  He  is  not  as 
stout  as  you  are,  but  perhaps  you  can  manage." 

And  so  she  hurried  down-stairs,  happy  enough,  to 
forget  for  a  minute  or  two  her  weight  of  anxiety. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  397 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

SAVAGE   LIFE 

"  And  as  his  bones  were  big,  and  sinews  strong, 
Refused  no  toil  that  could  to  slaves  belong, 
But  used  his  noble  hands  the  wood  to  hew." 

Palamon  and  A  r cite. 

WILLIAM  HARROD  had  indeed  lived  through  a  life- 
time of  horrors  in  the  period  since  he  had  parted 
from  these  ladies  above  San  Antonio  Bexar. 

It  is  of  such  adventures  that  the  personal  history 
of  the  pioneers  who  gave  to  us  the  Valley  of  the 
Mississippi  is  full ;  but  it  is  very  seldom  that  per- 
sonal history  crowds  together  so  much  of  danger,  and 
so  much  of  trial,  in  so  short  a  time. 

So  soon  as  he  knew  that  he  was  a  prisoner,  Harrod 
frankly  accepted  the  situation  of  a  prisoner,  with  that 
readiness  to  adapt  himself  to  his  surroundings  which 
gave  at  once  the  charm  and  the  strength  to  his 
character.  He  was  to  be  a  slave.  The  business  of 
a  slave  was  to  obey.  That  business  he  would  learn 
and  fulfil ;  not,  indeed,  with  the  slightest  purpose  of 
remaining  in  that  position,  but  because  a  man  ought 
to  make  the  best  of  any  position,  however  odiouf. 
With  the  same  cheerful  good-temper,  therefore,  with 
which  he  would  have  complied  with  a  whim  of  Inez, 
whom  he  loved,  or  a  wish  of  Eunice,  whom  he  re- 
spected, he  now  complied  with  a  whim  of  the  Long 
Horn,  whom  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  hated,  and 
whom  he  would  abandon  at  the  first  instant.  Nor 


398  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

was  here  any  treachery  to  the  Long  Horn.  If  Harrod 
or  the  Long  Horn  could  have  analyzed  the  sentiment, 
it  was  based  on  pride,  —  the  pride  of  a  man  who  knew 
so  thoroughly  that  he  was  the  Long  Horn's  superior 
that  he  need  not  make  any  parade  about  it.  He  sub- 
mitted to  his  exactions  as  a  sensible  person  may 
submit  to  the  exactions  of  a  child  whom  for  an  hour 
he  has  in  charge,  but  for  whose  education  he  has  no 
other  opportunities,  and  is  not  responsible. 

Day  after  day,  therefore,  the  Long  Horn  had  more 
and  more  reason  to  congratulate  himself  on  the  slave 
he  had  in  hand.  He  did  not  congratulate  himself. 
A  process  so  intricate,  and  so  much  approaching  to 
reflection,  did  not  belong  to  the  man  or  to  his  race. 
But  he  did  leave  to  Harrod,  more  and  more,  those 
cares  for  which  the  women  of  his  lodges  were  too 
weak,  and  for  which  he  was  too  lazy ;  and  of  such 
cares,  in  the  life  of  a  clan  of  shirks  and  cowards,  there 
are  a  few. 

Harrod  himself  was  able  to  learn  some  things,  and 
to  teach  many,  without  his  pupils  knowing  that  they 
were  taught.  This  does  not  mean,  as  a  missionary 
board  may  suppose,  that  he  built  a  log-cabin,  sent  to 
Chihuahua  for  primers  and  writing-books,  and  set  the 
Long  Horn  and  the  False  Heart  to  learning  their 
letters  and  their  pot-hooks.  He  taught  them  how  to 
take  care  of  their  horses ;  and  many  a  poor  brute, 
galled  and  wincing,  had  to  thank  him  for  relief.  He 
simplified  their  systems  of  corralling  and  of  tethering. 
And  on  his  own  part,  thorough-bred  woodman  as 
he  was,  his  eyes  were  open  every  moment  to  learn 
something  in  that  art  which  is  so  peculiarly  the 


or,  Show  your  Passports  399 

accomplishment  of  a  gentleman,  that  no  man  without 
some  skill  in  it  can  be  called  a  chevalier. 

It  was  to  such  arts  that  he  soon  owed  a  dignity  in 
the  tribe  which  materially  tended  to  his  own  comfort, 
and  ultimately  effected  his  escape. 

The  great  wealth  of  the  Indians  of  the  plains  of 
the  Colorado  of  the  West,  and  even  of  the  mountains, 
was  in  their  horses.  They  treated  them  horribly, 
partly  from  ignorance,  partly  from  carelessness,  but 
not  because  they  did  not  value  them.  It  is  a 
mistake  of  the  political  economists  to  suppose  that 
selfishness  will  compel  us  to  be  tender  when  our 
passions  are  aroused.  Of  course  the  easiest  way  to 
obtain  a  good  horse  was  to  steal  him,  as  these  fel- 
lows had  stolen  Harrod's.  In  periods  either  of  un- 
usual need  or  of  unusual  courage,  they  pounced  on 
a  Spanish  outpost,  and  so  provided  themselves. 
Perhaps  they  won  horses  in  fight,  as  the  result  of 
a  contest  in  which  large  numbers  overpowered  small, 
—  the  only  occasion  in  which  they  ever  fought  will- 
ingly. Failing  such  opportunities,  they  were  fain 
to  catch  the  wild  horses,  and,  after  their  fashion,  to 
break  them  to  their  uses.  They  were  passionately 
fond  of  horse-racing,  which  is  not  to  be  counted  as 
only  an  accomplishment  of  civilized  men. 

So  great  is  the  power  of  the  man  over  the  brute, 
that  one  man  alone,  and  he  on  foot,  can,  in  the  end, 
walk  down  and  take  captive  even  the  mustang l  of  the 
prairies.  It  would  be  only  in  an  extreme  case,  of 
course,  that  that  experiment  would  be  tried.  But 

1  The  derivation  is  said  to  be  from  the  Spanish  "mestena"  —  that 
which  is  common  property,  or  belongs  to  the  state,  "  mesial 


400  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

two  men  alone  can  catch  their  horses  from  a  herd 
even  of  wild  ones,  almost  as  well  as  if  they  had  more 
companions.  If  they  be  mounted,  so  much  the 
easier  for  them. 

In  the  sublime  indolence  of  the  Comanche  chiefs, 
therefore,  horses  beginning  to  fail,  the  Long  Horn 
and  the  Sheep's  Tail  each  of  them  detached  a  slave 
to  the  hard  job  of  taking  three  or  four  horses  each 
for  them,  which  they  would  next  have  to  break  to 
the  saddle. 

The  method  of  capture  is  based  on  the  habit  of  the 
wild  horse  to  keep  at  or  near  his  home.  He  knows 
that  home  as  well  as  the  queen-bee  knows  hers ;  and 
his  range  is  probably  not  much  wider  than  that  through 
which  her  subjects  wander.  Each  herd  has  its  cap- 
tain, or  director;  and  this  director  does  not  lead  it 
more  than  fifteen,  or  at  the  utmost  twenty  miles,  in 
one  direction.  When  he  has  passed  that  limit,  he 
returns,  and  leads  his  herd  with  him  to  the  region 
which  is  familiar  to  them. 

The  hunter  observes  this  limit  for  any  particular 
herd  of  horses,  and  then  knows  what  his  duty  is.  He 
builds  a  corral  ready  for  his  captives.  Then  one  of 
the  two  pursuers,  if  the  party  be  as  small  as  in  Har- 
rod's  case,  follows  the  herd  even  leisurely.  They 
only  follow  close  enough  to  have  their  presence  ob- 
served. The  stallion  who  leads,  leads  at  such  pace  as 
he  chooses,  avoiding  the  pursuer  by  such  route  as  he 
chooses.  If  the  herd  turned  against  the  pursuer,  they 
could  trample  him  into  the  ground.  But  they  do 
not  turn:  they  avoid  him.  The  pursuer  keeps  stead- 
ily behind.  At  a  time  agreed  upon,  one  of  the  two 


or,  Show  your  Passports  401 

men  stops  with  his  horse  for  rest  and  sleep  ;  the  other 
"  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale,"  and  for  twelve  hours 
keeps  close  enough  to  the  wandering  herd  to  keep 
them  moving;  in  turn  he  stops  and  sleeps;  but  his 
companion  is  awake  by  this  time,  has  found  the  trail, 
and  keeps  the  poor  hunted  creatures  in  motion. 
There  is  no  stop  to  sleep  for  them ;  and  so  jaded  and 
worn  down  are  they  by  a  few  days  and  nights  of  this 
motion  —  almost  constant  and  without  sleep  —  that 
at  last  no  thong  nor  lasso  is  needed  for  their  capture. 
You  may  at  last  walk  up  to  the  tired  beast  who  has 
lost  his  night's  rest  so  long,  twist  your  hand  into  his 
mane,  and  lead  him  unresisting  into  the  corral  you 
have  provided  for  him.  Poor  brute  !  Only  let  him 
rest,  and  you  may  do  what  else  you  will. 

On  such  an  enterprise  Will  Harrod  was  sent  with 
the  Crooked  Finger,  a  young  brave  who  was  young 
enough  to  have  some  enterprise,  and  proud  enough 
to  be  pleased  at  being  trusted  with  so  good  a  wood- 
man as  Harrod.  Each  of  them  was  respectably 
mounted,  —  not  very  well  mounted,  for  the  Long 
Horn  and  the  Sheep's  Tail  had  but  few  horses,  or 
they  would  not  be  hunting  more,  and  they  wanted 
the  best  horses  for  themselves.  Nor,  for  this  line  of 
horse-taking,  was  speed  so  essential.  The  young 
fellows  found  the  herd,  and  made  a  good  guess  as  to 
its  more  frequent  haunts ;  then  they  built  their  little 
corral ;  then  they  took  a  long  night's  sleep ;  then 
they  started  for  the  trail,  soon  found  it,  and  soon 
overtook  the  animals  they  sought.  Harrod  was  mag- 
nanimous as  always ;  he  bade  the  Crooked  Finger 
take  the  first  rest ;  he  would  follow  the  herd  through 

26 


402  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

the  twelve  hours  of  that  moonlight  night,  and  at 
dawn  of  the  sun  the  Crooked  Finger  must  strike  in. 
When  Harrod  had  reason  to  suppose  that  he  was 
well  on  the  trail,  he  also  would  stop,  and  he  and  his 
horse  would  sleep. 

For  two  days  and  two  nights  this  amusement  con- 
tinued. An  occasional  pull  at  some  dried  meat  kept 
soul  and  body  together  ;  and  the  horses  and  the  men 
followed  their  uneventful  round,  which  was,  in  fact, 
a  very  irregular  oval. 

As  Crooked  Finger  finished  his  second  tour  of 
service,  he  saw  Harrod  just  mounting  for  his  third. 
They  simply  nodded  to  each  other ;  but  Harrod  dis- 
mounted, and  busied  himself  with  his  horse's  mouth 
and  rein.  Crooked  Finger  approached,  and  gave 
some  brief  report  of  the  day's  pursuit,  to  which 
Harrod  replied  by  the  proper  ughs ;  and  then,  as 
Crooked  Finger  dismounted,  he  seized  the  savage  in 
his  iron  arms,  much  as  he  remembered  to  have  been 
seized  himself  by  the  Long  Horn,  fastened  his  elbows 
tight  behind  him  with  a  leather  thong,  and  kicked 
his  horse  so  resolutely  that  the  horse  disappeared. 
Harrod's  horse  was  tethered  too  tightly  to  follow  him. 

"  Good-by,  Crooked  Finger,"  said  Harrod  good- 
naturedly.  "  Here  is  meat  enough,  if  you  are  careful, 
to  take  you  to  the  lodges.  I  am  going  home." 

The  vanquished  savage  made  not  a  struggle,  and 
uttered  not  a  sound.  In  Harrod's  place  .he  would 
have  scalped  the  other,  and  he  knew  it.  He  sup- 
posed that  Harrod  did  not  scalp  him,  only  because 
he  had  no  scalping-knife. 

Harrod  was  free ;  and,  so  far  did  he  have  the  ad- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  403 

vantage  of  the  tribe,  that  they  made  no  attempt  to 
follow  him.  And  he  never  feared  their  pursuit  for 
one  moment.  But  he  did  fear  other  captors,  and  he 
feared  want  of  food.  This  meat  provided  for  the 
hunt  would  not  last  forever.  This  somewhat  sorry 
beast  he  rode  must  have  time  to  feed.  The  hunting 
of  a  man  who  has  neither  knife,  gun,  nor  arrows,  is 
but  poor  hunting,  —  for  food,  not  very  nutritious ; 
and  poor  Harrod  knew  that  the  time  might  come 
when  he  should  be  glad  of  the  sorriest  meal  he  had 
ever  eaten  in  a  Comanche  lodge.  But  Harrod  was 
free,  and  freedom  means  —  ah  !  a  great  deal ! 

This  chapter  cannot  tell,  and  must  not  try  to  tell, 
the  adventures  of  days  and  weeks,  even  of  months, 
at  last  lengthening  out  into  the  second  year  of  his 
exile,  as,  by  one  device  and  another,  the  poor  fellow 
worked  eastward  and  still  eastward.  He  came  out 
upon  the  lodges  of  the  Upper  Red  River,  where  Phil 
Nolan  had  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace  only  the  year 
before.  He  found  the  memory  of  his  great  com- 
mander held  in  high  esteem  there  ;  and  he  had  wit 
to  represent  himself  as  a  scout  from  his  party,  only 
accidentally  separated  from  them  for  a  few  days. 
Nicoroco  remembered  the  calumet  of  peace,  and 
tidings  had  come  to  him  of  Nolan's  discipline  of  One 
Eye,  a  memory  which  served  Will  Harrod  well  ;  and, 
after  a  sojourn  of  a  few  days  with  Nicoroco,  Harrod 
proceeded,  refreshed,  upon  his  way. 

It  was  after  this  oasis  in  the  desert  of  that  year's 
life,  that  the  most  serious  of  his  adventures  came. 
He  had  been  hunted  by  a  troop  of  savages,  of  which 
nation  he  knew  not,  but  whom  he  dared  not  trust. 


404  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

He  was  satisfied  that  the  time  had  come  when  he 
must  do  what  he  had  all  along  intended  to  do, — 
abandon  his  poor  brute,  who  was  more  and  more 
worthless  every  day,  and  trust  himself  to  the  swollen 
current  of  the  magnificent  Red  River.  Such  raft  as 
he  could  make  for  himself  must  bear  him  down  till 
he  could  communicate  with  the  pioneer  French 
settlements,  and  be  safe. 

He  knew  very  well,  in  this  crisis,  that  it  was  the 
last  step  which  would  cost.  But  Harrod  was  beyond 
counting  risks  now:  he  risked  everything  everyday. 

It  is  not  so  easy  to  make  a  raft,  when  one  has  not 
even  a  jack-knife.  Trees  do  not  accidentally  rot  into 
the  shapes  one  wants,  or  the  lengths  one  can  handle. 
But  Harrod's  ambition  for  his  raft  was  not  aspiring. 
Two  logs,  so  braced  and  tied  that  they  should  not 
roll  under  him,  —  only  this,  and  nothing  more,  was 
the  raft  which  he  needed.  In  a  long,  anxious  day, 
the  logs  were  found.  With  grape-vines  mostly,  and 
with  the  invaluable  leather  thongs  which  had  been 
his  reins  so  long,  the  obdurate  twisted  sticks  were 
compelled  to  cling  together.  Their  power  of  floating 
was  not  much ;  but  they  were  well  apart  from  each 
other  in  one  place,  and  there  Harrod  wedged  in  a 
shorter  log,  which  was  to  be  his  wet  throne.  And  so, 
with  a  full  supply  of  poles  and  misshapen  paddles,  he 
pushed  off  upon  his  voyage.  The  boiling  and  whirl- 
ing stream  bore  him  swiftly  down ;  and  there  was  at 
least  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  the  last  act  of  this 
tedious  drama  had  come.  How  the  play  would  turn 
out,  he  would  know  before  long. 

Day  after  day  of  this  wild  riding  of  the  waters! 


or,  Show  your  Passports  405 

And,  for  food,  the  poorest  picking,  —  grapes,  well- 
nigh  raisins  for  dryness,  astringent  enough  at  the 
best;  sassafras  bark  was  a  flavor,  but  not  nourishing; 
snails  sometimes ;  and  once  or  twice  a  foolish  fish, 
caught  by  the  rudest  of  machinery :  but  very  little  at 
the  very  best.  "  How  many  hired  servants  of  my 
father  have  bread  enough  and  to  spare !  "  said  poor 
Will  Harrod ;  for  he  was  very  hungry. 

Where  he  was,  he  did  not  know:  only  he  was  on 
the  Red  River  above  "  the  Raft."  His  hope  was  to 
come  to  "the  Raft:  "  then  he  should  be  only  two  or 
three  days  from  the  highest  French  farms.  Only  two 
or  three  days,  Will  Harrod,  with  nothing  to  eat! 
Armies  have  perished,  because  for  twenty-four  hours 
the  regular  ration  did  not  come. 

Even  the  Red  River  could  not  last  forever.  At 
last  he  came  to  a  raft,  so  thick  and  impassable  that  he 
hoped  it  was  the  Great  Raft.  Any  reader  who  has 
seen  the  tangled  mass  of  timber  above  a  saw-mill  can 
imagine  what  the  Great  Raft  was,  if  he  will  remember 
that  it  was  made  up,  not  of  felled  logs,  but  of  trees 
with  their  branches,  as  for  centuries  they  had  been 
whirled  down  the  stream.  First  formed  at  a  narrow 
gorge  of  the  Red  River,  it  extended  upward,  at  this 
time,  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles.  The  river  flowed 
beneath.  Soil  gathered  above.  Trees  took  root, 
and  grew  upon  it  to  be  large  and  strong.  In  high 
water  the  river  found  other  courses  round  it.  On 
parts  of  the  Raft  a  man  could  travel.  Through  parts 
of  it,  a  canoe  could  sail.  It  was  this  wreck  of  matter, 
—  this  "  tohu  va  bohu"  —  the  utter  confusion  of 
water  which  was  not  land,  and  land  which  was  not 


406  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

water,  which  marked  for  Will  Harrod  the  end  of  his 
navigation. 

With  the  precious  thongs,  a  bit  of  sharp  flint,  and 
the  tail  of  an  imprudent  cat-fish,  as  his  only  baggage, 
he  landed  on  the  bank  not  far  above  the  water-line, 
and  boldly  pushed  down  on  the  southern  shore.  He 
thought  Natchitoches  could  not  be  a  hundred  miles 
away ;  and  that  night  he  slept  well.  The  next  day  he 
made  good  time.  Little  to  eat,  for  no  cat-fish  rose 
to  his  bait ;  still  that  night  he  slept  well.  The  next 
day  came  the  worst  repulse  of  all. 

A  bayou  back  from  the  stream  —  all  gorged  with 
bark  and  trees  and  wreck  like  the  main  river — cut 
off  his  eastward  course.  Nothing  for  it  but  to 
return ! 

Never  !  That  way  was  sure  death.  Will  ventured 
on  the  Raft  itself.  To  cross  the  bayou  proved 
impossible.  One  could  not  swim  there:  one  could 
not  walk  there,  more  than  one  could  fly.  But  the 
river  itself  was  here  more  practicable,  —  not  for 
swimming,  but  for  walking.  So  old  was  the  Raft  that 
the  logs  had  rotted  on  the  surface,  and  weeds  and 
bushes  had  grown  there.  It  was  more  like  a  bit  of 
prairie,  than  of  river.  One  must  watch  every  step. 
Still  one  could  walk  here;  and,  though  the  channel 
was  very  broad  here,  Will  Harrod  held  his  course, 
slowly  and  not  confidently. 

No  food  that  day !  not  a  snail,  not  a  grape,  not  a 
lizard,  far  less  red-fish  or  cat-fish.  And  that  night's 
sleep  was  not  so  sound.  Water  is  but  little  refresh- 
ment, when  one  breakfasts  on  a  few  handfuls  of  it, 
after  such  a  day ;  but  with  such  breakfast  Will  Harrod 


or,  Show  your  Passports  407 

must  keep  on.  Keep  on  he  did ;  but  he  knew  his 
legs  dragged,  that  he  missed  his  foothold  when  he 
ought  not,  and  that  his  head  spun  weirdly,  that  he 
did  not  see  things  well. 

"  This  is  one  way  to  die,"  said  poor  Will,  aloud. 
And  then,  sitting  on  a  moss-grown  cypress  stick,  he 
looked  wistfully  round  him  ;  and  then,  when  a  belated 
grasshopper  lighted  by  his  side,  with  a  clutch  of 
frenzy  he  snatched  the  creature,  and  held  him  help- 
less in  his  hand. 

Victory ! 

The  grasshopper,  yet  living,  was  tied  tight  to  the 
end  of  the  little  thong  which  had  served  for  a  line  all 
along.  A  stout  acacia-thorn,  one  of  a  dozen  at  Har- 
rod's  girdle,  was  tied  in  a  knot  just  above.  And,  with 
cheerfulness  he  had  thought  impossible,  he  went  to 
the  nearest  open  hole,  to  bob  and  bob  again  for  his 
life. 

But  how  soon  the  dizziness  returned  !  How  many 
hours  did  he  sit  there  in  the  sun?  Will  Harrod  never 
knew.  Only  at  last,  a  gulp,  a  pull  at  the  cord,  and  a 
noble  fish — food  for  three  or  four  days,  as  Will 
Harrod  had  been  using  food  —  was  in  the  air,  —  was 
flapping  on  the  so-called  ground  at  his  side. 

Victory ! 

With  the  bit  of  sharpened  stone  which  had  served 
him  all  along,  he  killed  the  fish,  opened  him,  and 
cleaned  him.  Little  thought  or  care  for  fire !  He 
returned  carefully  to  his  lair,  to  put  by  the  sacred 
implements  of  the  chase,  which  had  served  him  so 
well.  Weak  as  he  was,  he  tripped,  —  his  foot  was 
tangled  in  a  grape-vine,  —  and  he  fell.  As  he  dis- 


408  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

entangled  himself,  he  could  see  an  alligator  rise  — 
not  very  rapidly,  either  —  from  the  stream,  make 
directly  to  the  prize;  and,  before  poor  Will  was  free, 
the  brute  had  plunged  with  the  fish  into  the  river. 

"  Miss  Inez/'  said  he,  as  in  the  evening  they  sat  in 
the  gallery,  and  he  told  this  story,  "  I  never  despaired 
till  then.  But  my  head  was  swimming.  The  beast 
looked  like  the  very  Devil  himself.  I  lay  back  on 
the  ground,  and  I  said,  '  Then  I  will  die/  And, 
will  you  believe  me?  I  fell  asleep. 

"  I  woke  up,  —  I  do  not  know  how  soon.  But,  as 
I  woke,  my  one  thought  was  of  sitting  and  bobbing 
there.  What  had  I  seen  when  I  was  bobbing?  Had 
not  I  seen  a  log  cut  with  an  axe?  Why  did  I  not 
think  of  that  before?  Because  I  could  think  only  of 
my  bait  and  my  line.  Was  it  cut  by  an  axe?  I  went 
back  to  the  stream.  It  was  cut  by  an  axe.  It  was  an 
old  dug-out,  —  a  Frenchman's  pirogue,  bottom  up. 
How  quick  I  turned  it  over !  Where  it  came  into 
that  bayou,  it  could  go  out.  I  laid  into  it  my  pre- 
cious line  and  cutting-stone.  I  broke  me  off  sticks 
for  fending-poles.  I  was  strong  as  a  lion  now.  I 
bushwhacked  here,  I  poled  there,  I  paddled  there. 
In  an  hour  I  was  free ;  and  then  the  sun  was  so  hot 
above  me,  that  I  fainted  away  in  the  bottom  of  the 
canoe." 

"  You  poor,  poor  child  !  "  sobbed  the  sympathizing 
Inez. 

"  And,  the  next  I  knew,  it  was  evening,  and  an  old 
Frenchman  held  me  in  his  arms,  at  the  shore,  and 
was  pouring  milk  down  my  throat  in  spoonfuls. 
Weak  as  I  was,  I  clutched  his  pail,  and  he  thought  I 


or,  Show  your  Passports  409 

should  have  drunk    myself  to    death.     He    did    not 
clap  me  in  irons,  though  I  did  come  from  above/' 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

IN   PRISON,   AND   YE  VISITED   ME 

"  Curse  on  the  unpardoning  prince,  whom  tears  can  draw 
To  no  remorse,  who  rules  by  lions'  law, 
And  deaf  to  prayers,  by  no  submission  bowed, 
Rends  all  alike,  the  penitent  and  proud." 

Palamon  and  Arcite. 

BUT  Miss  Inez  and  Master  William  did  not  spend 
that  morning  in  telling  or  in  hearing  this  tale.  It 
is  from  long  narratives,  told  in  more  quiet  times, 
that  we  have  condensed  it  for  the  reader. 

No.     They  had  other  affairs  in  hand. 

Inez  had  been  diligently  at  work  preparing  her 
costume  for  the  day,  before  Antoine  had  summoned 
her  to  breakfast  Chloe  had  been  as  diligently  at 
work  in  the  laundry,  while  breakfast  went  on. 

While  Harrod  made  his  toilet,  —  a  matter  of  no 
little  difficulty,  —  Inez  made  hers. 

At  last  he  came  down-stairs,  shaven  and  shorn, 
washed  and  brushed,  elegantly  dressed,  with  a  ruffled 
shirt,  an  embroidered  waistcoat,  and  a  blue  coat; 
dressed,  in  short,  in  the  costume  of  civilized  Europe 
or  America,  as  he  had  not  been  dressed  for  two 
years. 

He  went  through  the  hall,  and  from  room  to  room 
of  the  large  parlors  down-stairs,  but  saw  Inez  no- 
where. In  the  front  parlor  was  a  little  sister  of  char- 


410  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

ity  who  seemed  absorbed  in  a  book  of  devotions. 
Harrod  touched  his  hat,  and  asked  if  he  could  see 
Miss  Perry ;  to  which  the  sister,  without  so  much  as 
raising  her  modest  eyes  to  the  handsome  Kentuckian, 
only  replied,  " Pas  encore" 

Harrod  struck  the  bell  which  stood  in  the  hall,  and 
summoned  Antoine.  The  respectful  servant  won- 
dered if  he  had  left  the  garden  gate  open,  but  did 
not  distress  himself.  Harrod  bade  him  call  his 
mistress.  Antoine  thought  she  was  in  the  parlor, 
but,  as  he  looked  in,  saw  no  one  but  the  sister  of 
charity.  She  asked  him  also  if  he  would  summon 
his  mistress.  Antoine  said  he  did  not  know  where 
the  was,  but  he  would  try. 

The  minute  he  was  well  out  of  the  hall,  the  sister 
of  charity  hopped  up,  and  executed  a  pirouette,  to 
Harrod's  amazement,  clapped  her  hands,  and  ran 
across  the  room  to  him.  "  So,  sir,  I  knew  you  after 
two  years*  parting,  and  you  did  not  know  me  after  an 
hour's  !  That  shows  who  understands  masquerading 
best/' 

"  Who  would  know  you,  with  that  ridiculous  hand- 
kerchief tied  round  your  mouth  and  nose,  and  those 
devout  eyes  cast  down  on  your  prayer-book?  At 
the  least,  you  cannot  say  my  disguise  covered  me." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Inez,  laughing,  "that  was  its  weak- 
est side." 

And  she  proceeded  to  explain  her  plans  for  the 
day.  She  was  going  to  the  prison  to  see  old  Ran- 
som. Her  father  was  out  of  the  question.  But  an 
interview  with  Ransom  could  be  gained,  she  thought; 
for  she  believed,  as  it  proved  rightly,  that  no  such 


or,  Show  your  Passports  411 

calendar  of  sisters  was  kept  at  the  prison  gate  that  the 
warders  would  know  of  a  certain  new-comer,  whether 
she  were  or  were  not  en  rigle.  Of  her  own  costume 
Inez  had  no  doubt  whatever. 

And  so  they  parted,  —  Inez  for  this  duty,  Harrod 
to  see  the  American  consul,  Mr.  Pollock,  Mr.  Binga- 
man,  and  the  other  Americans,  and  to  determine 
what  should  be  done  in  this  rudest  violation  yet  of 
the  rights  of  the  American  residents  in  Orleans. 

At  the  Palace  of  Justice  —  if  it  may  be  so  called 
—  Inez  had  even  less  difficulty  than  she  had  appre- 
hended. The  place  was  not  strictly  a  prison.  That 
is,  the  upper  stories  were  used  for  the  various  pur- 
poses of  business  of  the  fussy  administration  of  the 
little  colony;  and,  below,  a  dozen  large  cells  and  a 
certain  central  hall  had  been  by  long  usage  set  apart 
as  places  of  confinement,  barred  and  bolted,  for  pris- 
oners awaiting  trial,  and  for  anybody  else,  indeed, 
who,  for  whatever  reason,  was  not  to  be  sent  to  the 
prison  proper. 

To  the  sentinel  on  duty  at  the  door,  Inez  simply 
said, — 

"  You  have  a  sick  man  here." 

"  Two,  my  lady.  Will  my  lady  tell  me  the  name 
of  the  sinner  she  seeks?  " 

"  If  there  be  two,"  said  Inez,  speaking  in  Spanish, 
with  which  the  French  sentinel  was  not  so  familiar,  "  I 
will  see  them  both;  "  and,  acknowledging  his  courtesy 
as  he  passed,  she  entered  into  the  general  prison, 
where  nine  or  ten  poor  dogs  sat,  lay,  or  paced  uneasily. 
Among  them  she  instantly  saw  Ransom,  sitting  hand- 
cuffed on  a  chest. 


412  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

He  did  not  recognize  her,  and  she  affected  not  to 
see  him ;  but  she  passed  close  to  him,  and  said  quite 
aloud  in  English,  "  Ransom,  take  care  that  you  are 
very  sick  when  I  come  to-morrow."  Then  she  passed 
on  into  the  side  cell,  which  had  been  opened  at  her 
direction.  The  particular  Juan  or  Manuel  who  was 
lying  there  had  not  expected  her ;  but  he  was  none 
the  worse  for  the  guava-jelly  she  left  him,  nor  that 
she  sponged  his  hands  and  face  from  the  contents  of 
the  generous  canteen  she  bore.  She  read  to  him  a 
few  simple  prayers,  visited  the  other  invalid  in  the 
same  fashion,  and  was  gone. 

The  next  day,  however,  Inez  had  three  patients. 
She  had  soon  disposed  of  those  whom  she  saw  the 
day  before,  and  then  found  herself,  as  she  had  in- 
tended, alone  with  Ransom,  who  lay  on  the  shelf  in 
his  cell  with  a  few  leaves  and  stems  of  the  sugar-cane 
under  him. 

Ransom  explained  that  on  the  day  he  was  missed, 
having  been  lured  away,  just  as  he  left  the  brig,  into  a 
narrow  street  where  none  "  but  them  Greasers  "  lived, 
—  as  he  was  talking  with  the  man  who  had  summoned 
him,  he  was  caught  from  behind,  his  arms  pinioned 
behind  him,  he  tripped  up,  steel  cuffs  locked  upon 
his  feet,  and  in  this  guise  was  carried  by  four  men 
into  a  neighboring  baraca.  As  soon  as  night  fell,  his 
captors  brought  him  to  the  Government  House. 
They  had  since  had  him  under  examination  there 
three  times.  They  had  questioned  him  about  Nolan 
and  Harrod,  about  Mr.  Perry  and  Roland,  about 
Lonsdale  and  the  "  Firefly,"  and  about  General 
Bowles.  They  had  asked  about  the  message  sent 


or,  Show  your  Passports  4*3 

up  the  river  by  Mr.  Perry  the  previous  spring.  But 
specially  they  had  questioned  him  about  the  Lodge 
of  Free-Masons,  to  find  whether  Mr.  Perry,  Mr. 
Roland,  or  Mr.  Lonsdale  belonged  to  it;  and  about 
what  Ransom  knew,  and  what  he  did  not  know,  of 
the  movements  of  one  Sopper,  an  American,  whom 
the  authorities  suspected  of  raising  a  plot  among  the 
slaves. 

Now,  the  truth  was  that  Ransom  knew  Sopper 
very  well.  He  probably  knew  Ransom  better  than 
he  did  any  other  person  in  Orleans,  where  the  man 
was,  indeed,  a  stranger. 

"They'd  seen  me  with  him,  Miss  Inez.  He's  a 
poor  critter;  hain't  got  no  friends,  anyway,  'n'  I 
wanted  to  keep  him  out  o*  mischief.  He's  one  of 
them  Ipswich  Soppers,  —  no,  he  ain't:  he  came  from 
Sacarap,  —  they  was  a  poor  set;  but  they  did  zwel 
as  they  knew  how.  They'd  seen  me  with  him,  so 
I  knew  they  was  no  use  of  lyin'  about  it,  'n'  I  told 
'em  I  knew  him,  cos  I  did." 

"  Ransom,  there  is  never  any  use  of  lying,"  said 
poor  Inez,  doing  something  to  keep  up  her  character. 

But  it  was  clear  that  Ransom's  examination  had 
been  of  that  sort  which  did  nobody  any  good,  and 
him  least  good  of  all.  Inez  could  see,  as  he  detailed 
it,  that  he  had  made  the  authorities  suspect  him 
more  than  ever ;  and,  from  the  tenor  of  the  last  ex- 
amination, she  saw  that  the  authorities  thought  that 
he  was  an  accomplice  in  the  negro  plot,  regarding 
which  they  were  most  sensitive. 

"  'T  ain't   no    account,    mum,    anyway,    now    Mr 
Perry  knows    I  'm   here :    he  '11   go   to  the   guv'ner, 


4 1 4  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

and  the  guv'ner  '11  have  to  let  me  out.  Did  n't  have 
no  way  to  send  ye  word,  or  I  'd  'a*  sent  before." 

Then  Inez  told  him  that  her  father  had  been 
seized  also. 

The  poor  old  man  started  from  his  bed,  and  could 
hardly  be  kept  from  rushing  to  the  rescue. 

In  one  instant  he  saw  the  position;  and  in  the 
same  instant  his  whole  countenance  changed,  and 
his  easy  courage  fell. 

Often  as  he  had  thwarted  Silas  Perry,  and  often  as 
he  had  disobeyed  him,  in  his  heart  he  was  a  faith- 
ful vassal,  and  nothing  else.  He  would  have  "  died 
with  rapture  if  he  saved  his  king;"  but  when  that 
king  was  checkmated  his  truncheon  fell  at  once. 

Inez  went  farther,  and  said  her  fear  was  that  they 
would  both  be  sent  to  Cuba  for  trial. 

"  No,  Miss  Inez :  ef  your  father 's  in  prison,  they 
ain't  no  more  trial  for  me.  Tried  me  three  times 
a* ready,  and  I  give  'em  a  bit  o'  my  mind  each  time. 
No.  They 's  done  with  me."  And  he  sank  into 
silence. 

Inez  broke  it  with  a  consolation  she  did  not  feel. 

"  Keep  up  good  spirits,  dear  Ransom,"  she  said. 
"  We  are  all  at  work  for  you.  Mr.  Harrod  has 
come  home,  and  he  is  at  work,  and  Mr.  Binga- 
man  and  the  consul.  Aunt  Eunice  got  home  last 
night,  and  she  will  work  for  you.  Mr.  Lonsdale 
will  work.  We  shall  never  let  you  come  to  harm." 

The  old  man  sat  silent  for  a  moment  more.  Then 
he  said  calmly,  "No,  mum,  they's  done  with  me. 
Bingaman  's  no  account,  never  was,  unless  he  had 
Mr.  Perry  to  tell  him  what  to  do.  Ain't  none  on 


or,  Show  your  Passports  41 5 

'em  knows  what  to  do,  ef  Mr.  Perry  don't  tell  'em. 
Captain  Harrod,  he's  a  gentleman;  but  they  don't 
none  on  'em  know  him  here.  No,  mum,  they's 
done  with  me."  And  he  made  another  long  pause. 
"They'll  send  ye  father  to  Cuby,  and  they'll 
hang  me.  They'll  hang  me  down  by  the  arsenal, 
— jest  where  they  hanged  them  Frenchmen.  It's 
jest  like  'em ;  'n'  I  told  'em  so,  I  did.  Says  I,  '  You 
hanged  them  Frenchmen,  and  you  know  you  Ve 
been  all  wrong  ever  since  ye  did  it,'  says  I.  But 
they  did  n't  hang  'em  theyselves :  they  did  n't  dare 
to.  Darned  ef  they  could  get  a  white  man  in  all 
Orleans  to  hang  'em.  Cum  to  the  '  Hingham  Gal,' 
—  she  was  lyin'  here  then, —  'n'  there  was  a  poor 
foolish  critter  in  her,  named  Prime,  'n'  they  offered 
him  twenty  doubloons  to  hang  'em;  'n'  he  says, 
says  he,  *  I  'm  a  fool,'  says  he,  and  he  was  a  fool, 
'  but  I  ain't  so  big  a  fool,'  says  he,  '  as  you  think 
I  be,',  says  he  ;  'n'  they  had  to  get  a  nigger  to  hang 
'em,  cos  no  white  man  would  stand  by  'em.  That 's 
what  they  '11  do  with  me,"  said  poor  old  Ransom. 

In  speaking  thus,  Ransom  was  alluding  to  O'Reilly's 
horrible  vengeance  upon  the  Creole  gentlemen  who 
had  engaged  in  a  plot  to  throw  off  the  Spanish  rule 
more  than  twenty  years  before. 

"  Ransom,"  said  the  girl,  sobbing  her  heart  out, 
"  if  they  hang  you  they  will  hang  me  too."  Then 
she  promised  him  that  she  would  return  on  Sunday, 
bade  him  be  sure  he  was  sick  in  bed  at  noon,  and 
with  a  faint  heart  found  her  way  home. 

She  would  have  attempted  more  definite  words 
of  consolation  if  she  had  had  them  to  offer.  But 


4i 6  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

Hatred's  report  of  yesterday  had  not  been  en- 
couraging. The  consular  clerk  had  been  roused 
to  some  interest,  but  to  no  resource.  The  em- 
bargo had  been  proclaimed.  That  had  confirmed 
Inez's  news,  and  had  awakened  all  the  merchants. 
Harrod  had  made  him,  the  clerk,  promise  to  call 
on  the  governor  with  him  at  one  o'clock.  By  way 
of  preparing  for  that  interview,  he  made  one  or  two 
visits  among  English  and  American  merchants,  when 
suddenly,  to  his  disgust,  he  found  himself  evidently 
watched  by  a  tall  man  of  military  aspect,  though 
not  in  uniform.  Harrod  was  close  by  the  Govern- 
ment House.  He  determined,  at  least,  to  strike  high 
and  to  die  game.  He  would  not  be  jugged  without 
one  interview  with  the  governor  in  person. 

He  entered  the  house, — went  by  as  many  senti.- 
nels  as  he  could,  by  what  is  always  a  good  rule, 
pretending  to  be  quite  at  home,  giving  a  simple 
hasty  salute  to  the  sentries,  —  and  so  came  to  the 
governor's  door,  as  he  had  been  directed.  Here 
he  had  to  send  in  his  card  ;  but  he  was  immediately 
admitted. 

He  explained  that  he  had  expected  to  be  joined 
by  the  American  consul.  His  message,  however, 
was  important,  and  he  would  not  wait. 

"And  what  is  your  honor's  business?"  said  the 
courtly  governor. 

"  It  is  to  ask  on  what  ground  Mr.  Silas  Perry 
is  held  in  confinement,  and  to  claim  his  release 
as  an  American  citizen." 

"  Don  Silas  Perry  in  confinement !  "  said  the  gov- 
ernor with  a  start  of  surprise,  which  was  not  at  all 


or,  Show  your  Passports  41 7 

acted.  He  was  surprised  that  this  Mr.  Harrod  should 
have  come  at  his  secret.  "  Where  is  he  in  con- 
finement?" 

"  No  one  knows  better  than  your  excellency/' 
said  Harrod,  who  noted  his  advantage :  "  he  is 
imprisoned  under  this  roof.  Your  excellency  can 
show  me  to  his  apartments,  unless  your  excellency 
wishes  me  to  take  your  excellency  there.'1 

This  was  a  word  too  much,  and  probably  did 
not  help  Master  William.  It  gave  his  excellency 
time  to  rally,  and  to  ask  himself  who  this  brown, 
well-dressed  man  of  action  and  of  affairs  might 
be. 

"You  have  sent  me  your  card,"  said  he;  "you 
have  not  explained  to  me  who  has  honored  me 
by  introducing  you,  nor  do  I  understand  that  you 
represent  the  American  consul.  I  think,  indeed, 
that  the  American  consul  is  not  in  the  city,  that 
he  is  at  the  Balize." 

"Your  excellency  does  not  wish  to  stand  upon 
punctilio,"  said  Harrod.  "The  consul's  clerk  will 
be  here  in  five  minutes.  The  American  consul  will 
be  here  to  night.  It  is  in  the  name  of  the  Americans 
of  the  city  that  I  speak." 

The  governor  looked  his  contempt.  "  His  Majesty 
the  King  of  Spain  has  given  these  gentlemen  per- 
mission to  reside  here  to  attend  to  an  unfortunate 
commerce,  all  but  contraband,  which  will  end  in  a 
few  monfhs  at  latest ;  but  his  Majesty  has  never 
been  informed,  till  this  moment,  that  these  gentle- 
men expected  him  to  consult  them  in  the  adminis- 
tration of  justice."  Then,  as  if  he  were  weary  of 

27 


4 1 8  Philip  Nolan's  Friends ; 

the  interview,  he  turned  to  a  servant  who  gave  him 
a  card,  and,  as  if  to  dismiss  Harrod,  said,  "  Show 
this  gentleman  in." 

To  Harrod's  dismay,  the  military  man  entered, 
who  had  tracked  him  in  the  street. 

He  thought  that  his  game  was  up,  and  that  he  was 
to  be  put  into  the  room  next  to  Mr.  Perry's.  But 
he  had  no  disposition  to  surrender  a  moment  before 
his  time  came.  Without  noticing  hint  or  stranger, 
he  said,  — 

"  If  your  excellency  despises  the  Americans  here, 
you  may  have  more  regard  for  the  Americans  at 
home.  Your  excellency  has  the  name  of  a  friend  of 
peace.  Your  minister  at  home  is  called  the  Prince 
of  Peace.  Your  excellency  has  simply  to  consider 
that,  if  Mr.  Silas  Perry  and  Mr.  Seth  Ransom  are 
not  free  to-morrow  night,  a  courier  will  carry  that 
news  to  the  Tennessee  River  in  ten  days,  to  Ken- 
tucky in  five  more.  Let  it  once  be  known  that  two 
American  citizens  have  been  sent  to  Cuba,  and  ten 
thousand  riflemen  from  Kentucky  and  Tennessee  will 
muster  at  their  ports  to  avenge  them.  The  boats  are 
there,  as  your  excellency  knows ;  the  river  is  rising, 
as  your  excellency  knows.  Whether  the  f  Prince  of 
Peace '  will  thank  you  for  what  your  excellency 
brings  down  hither  upon  the  river,  your  ex- 
cellency knows  also."  And  William  Harrod  rose. 
"  I  see  your  excellency  is  engaged.  I  will  find 
the  vice-consul,  and  will  return  with  him/1 

"  Stay  a  moment,"  said  the  military  gentleman, 
"stay  a  moment,  sir.  Do  I  understand  that  Mr. 
Perry  is  in  confinement?" 


or,  Show  your  Passports  419 

"  He  is  under  lock  and  bar  in  this  house,  sir,"  said 
Harrod  fiercely. 

"  And  for  what  crime?  "  said  the  stranger. 

"  For  no  crime  under  the  heavens  of  God,"  said 
Harrod,  now  very  angry,  "  for  no  crime,  as  you 
would  say  if  you  knew  him.  You  must  ask  his 
excellency  on  what  accusation." 

"  I  will  take  the  liberty  to  ask  his  excellency  that 
question,"  said  the  other.  "  Mr.  Perry  is  my  near 
friend,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  governor;  "  he  is 
the  near  friend  of  the  King  of  England,  to  whom  he 
has  rendered  distinguished  services.  I  know  your 
excellency  too  well  to  think  that,  at  this  critical 
juncture,  your  excellency  would  willingly  thwart  the 
government  I  represent,  by  the  arrest  of  a  person 
whose  services,  I  had  almost  said,  we  require." 

The  picture  was  a  striking  one,  as  these  two  fine 
young  men  stood,  the  one  on  each  side  of  the  gov- 
ernor, who  was  himself  to  the  last  degree  annoyed 
that  by  his  own  blunder  he  had  lost  the  one  great 
advantage  in  Spanish  statecraft,  the  advantage  of 
dealing  with  each  alone. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Lonsdale,"  he  said,  giving  to  the 
English  diplomatist  his  hand,  "  if  you  will  do  me  the 
favor  to  dine  with  me,  I  can  explain  perhaps  what 
you  do  not  understand.  If  our  young  friend  here, 
the  ambassador  from  Kentucky,  will  meanwhile  study 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  he  will  under- 
stand perhaps  that  I  cannot  treat  with  envoys  from 
separate  States.  —  Good-morning,  sir:  "  this  sharply 
to  Harrod.  "  If  you  will  take  an  early  lunch  with  us, 
it  is  waiting  now:  "  this  courteously  to  Lonsdale. 


420  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

"  I  am  greatly  obliged,"  said  Lonsdale  coolly.  "  I 
have  business  with  this  gentleman.  I  will  do  myself 
the  honor  of  calling  again."  And,  with  hauteur 
quite  equal  to  what  might  be  expected  from  the 
Duke  of  Clarence,  he  withdrew. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

FACE  TO   FACE 

"  A  brave  heart  bids  the  midnight  shine  like  day, 
Friendship  dares  all  things,  when  love  shows  the  way." 

A  ndromaque. 

As  they  left  the  Government  House,  Harrod  hastily 
explained  to  Lonsdale  who  he  was,  and  told  what  he 
himself  knew  of  the  passages  of  these  dark  days,  and 
why  he  knew  so  little.  Lonsdale  explained  who  he 
was,  —  that  he  had  but  just  landed  from  his  own 
galliot,  in  which  he  had  brought  Miss  Perry,  and  the 
old  lady  whom  Miss  Perry  had  gone  to  Natchez  to 
find.  But  they  had  left  Natchez  before  any  bad 
news,  even  of  Ransom's  disappearance,  had  arrived 
there;  and  the  first  intelligence  Mr.  Lonsdale  had 
had  of  either  calamity  was  in  the  words  he  had  heard 
William  Harrod  use  at  the  governor's. 

He  had  parted  from  Miss  Perry  only  at  the  land- 
ing, having  promised  to  join  her  again  at  her  own 
house  within  an  hour.  He  was  therefore  sure  that  up 
till  her  arrival  at  home  she  had  had  no  intimation  of 
the  wretched  news. 

Harrod  was  quick  enough  to  observe  that  in  his 


or,  Show  your  Passports  421 

language  there  was  a  certain  air  of  authority,  as  if  he 
had  a  right  to  protect  Miss  Perry,  and  to  be  con- 
sulted intimately  in  her  affairs.  For  this,  Harrod 
had  not  been  prepared  by  Inez's  hurried  narrative. 
Inez  had  spoken  of  Mr.  Lonsdale  as  the  English 
gentleman  whose  escort  they  had  received  in  coming 
from  Texas;  but  she  had  scarcely  alluded  to  him 
again. 

The  two  went  hastily  to  Mr.  Perry's  house,  filling 
up,  as  each  best  could,  the  immense  gaps  in  the  in- 
formation which  each  had,  as  to  these  matters  in 
which  each  had  personal  reasons  for  intense  interest. 
Let  them  do  their  best,  however,  there  were  large 
chasms  unfilled.  For  what  reason  was  Mr.  Perry 
arrested?  For  what,  poor  Ransom?  What  new 
motive  could  they  now  bring  to  bear  ?  And  should 
William  Harrod  not  make  good  his  threat  of  send- 
ing a  courier  through  General  Bowles's  country  into 
Tennessee  and  Kentucky  ? 

Inez  was  away  on  her  first  visit  to  the  prison  when 
the  young  men  arrived.  They  found  Eunice  in  all 
the  agony  of  surprise,  anger,  and  doubt,  having  re- 
ceived, from  the  very  incompetent  lips  of  Antoine 
and  Chloe,  such  broken  account  as  they  could  give  of 
the  little  which  Miss  Inez  had  chosen  to  intrust  to 
them.  Eunice  was  writing  to  the  consul  as  they 
entered.  By  her  side  was  the  lovely  white-haired 
Mother  Ann,  who  had  come  so  gladly  with  Eunice, 
certain  that  she  should  find  her  lost  grandchild,  and 
who  now  found  herself  in  the  midst  of  another 
tragedy  so  strange.  The  beautiful  old  lady  had  not 
learned  the  lessons  of  sixty  years  in  vain.  Her  face 


422  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

had  the  lovely  saint-like  expression  of  the  true  saint, 
who  had  never  shirked  life  in  a  convent,  but  who  had 
taken  it  in  its  rough-and-tumble,  and  had  come  off 
conqueror  and  more  than  conqueror. 

"  Never  mind  me,  dear  Eunice,"  she  said,  in  her 
half-Quaker  way:  "let  us  do  what  we  may  for  thy 
brother  first,  and  for  this  brave  old  fellow  who  loves 
my  dear  girl  so.  What  is  a  few  hours  to  me,  now  I 
am  so  safe,  so  sure,  and  so  happy?" 

Upon  their  rapid  consultations  Inez  came  in,  still 
in  the  sister's  costume.  She  flung  herself  into 
Eunice's  arms,  and  sobbed  out  her  grief.  A  com- 
mon cause  gave  frankness  and  cordiality  to  her  wel- 
come of  Lonsdale  such  as  she  had  never  honored 
him  with  before.  Then  came  rapid  conferences,  and 
eager  mutual  information.  Inez  could  tell,  and 
Harrod  could  tell,  to  this  group,  what  had  not  been 
revealed  to  Antoine  and  to  Chloe  of  Ma-ry's  informa- 
tion. Harrod  and  Lonsdale  had  to  tell  of  the  gov- 
ernor's coldness,  and  the  dead-lock  they  were  at 
there.  But  both  of  them  agreed  that  they  must  go 
at  once  to  the  American  consulate  to  report;  and 
Lonsdale  said,  very  simply,  that  he  could  and  would 
bring  in  all  the  intercession  of  Mr.  Hutchings,  the 
English  consul.  Such  an  outrage  made  a  common 
cause. 

"  And  we  and  this  dear,  dear,  dear  lady  will  go,  — 
we  can  go  on  foot,  dear  aunt,  —  and  liberate  my 
darling  from  the  convent."  This  was  Inez's  excla- 
mation, and  then  she  stopped.  "  But  what  a  blessing 
that  she  was  not  liberated  before !  Where  should 
we  be  now,  but  for  the  White  Hawk?" 


or,  Show  your  Passports  423 

Then  they  all  turned  to  Harrod  and  to  Lonsdale,  to 
make  sure  that  they  should  not  want  her  at  the  con- 
vent still.  But  it  was  agreed  that  they  now  had,  in 
all  probability,  all  the  information  that  Ma-ry  could 
give.  The  chances  were  vastly  against  their  gaining 
more. 

"  I  must  have  the  dear  child  here/'  said  Eunice 
promptly. 

"  Thank  God  you  say  that !  "  said  Inez. 

And,  so  soon  as  she  could  transform  herself  into 
Miss  Inez  Perry,  they  were  all  three  on  their  way. 

It  was  not  the  regulation  day  for  seeing  visitors ; 
there  had  been  no  chance  to  consult  the  pope  or  the 
vicar-general ;  and  St.  Ursula  had  not  provided  in 
her  last  will  for  any  such  exigency.  But  Eunice  was 
so  forceful  in  her  quietness,  and  dear  "  Mother  Ann  " 
was  so  eager  in  her  quietness,  for  she  did  not  say  one 
word,  that  even  Sister  Barbara  gave  way ;  and  Inez 
was  obliged  to  own  to  herself  that  even  she  could 
not  have  improved  on  the  method  of  the  negotiation. 
Sister  Barbara  disappeared.  She  was  not  gone  long. 
She  came  back  with  the  White  Hawk,  to  whom  she 
had  said  nothing  of  her  visitors. 

The  moment  the  pretty  creature  entered  the  room, 
the  quiet,  lovely  grandmother  sprang  across  like  a 
girl,  and  flung  her  arms  around  her,  and  kissed  her 
again  and  again.  "  My  dear,  dear,  dear  child !  " 
This  was  all  she  could  say.  The  girl's  likeness  to  her 
murdered  mother  was  enough  for  the  other  mother 
who  had  brooded  over  her  loss  so  long. 

And  Ma-ry,  dear  child,  kissed  her,  and  soothed 
her,  and  stroked  her  beautiful  white  hair,  and  said 


424  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

little  loving  words  to  her,  now  as  a  child  might  do, 
just  learning  to  speak,  now  as  a  woman  of  long  ex- 
perience might  do.  How  much  these  two  would 
have  to  tell  each  other,  and  to  learn  from  each  other ! 
And  the  first  meeting  was  all  that  the  eager  heart  of 
either  could  demand. 

"  Dear,  dear,  dear  grandmamma/1  for  the  child  had 
been  teaching  herself  this  word  in  anticipation. 
"Was  she  not  very  lovely?" 

"  My  darling,  she  was  very  lovely.  You  are  her 
image,  my  child.  I  knew  you  were  named  Mary. 
My  sister  was  named  Mary,  and  you  are  named  for 
her.  I  have  here,"  and  she  pointed  to  her  heart, 
"  your  dear,  dear  mother's  last  letter.  She  says  she 
had  named  you  '  Mary '  and  she  says  you  were  the 
only  baby  in  the  settlement,  and  the  pet  of  them  all. 
And  I  was  to  come  and  help  take  care  of  you  when 
you  were  a  baby ;  and  now  at  last  I  have  come." 

Sister  Barbara  was  as  much  affected  as  the  others. 
She  agreed  with  Miss  Eunice,  that  it  was  not  prob- 
able that  Ma-ry's  studies  would  flourish  much  under 
the  stimulus  of  this  new  element  in  her  life.  And  it 
was  also  so  improbable  that  any  similar  case  had 
transpired  in  the  eleven  thousand  experiences  of  the 
eleven  thousand  virgins,  that  their  memoirs  were  not 
even  consulted  for  a  precedent ;  and  failing  the  vicar- 
general  and  the  pope,  as  above,  Sister  Barbara 
consented  that  the  White  Hawk  should  go  home 
with  the  visitors,  and  stay  till  next  week.  Alas,  for 
Sister  Barbara !  "  to-morrow  never  comes,"  and  "  next 
week  "  never  came  for  this  return  to  study. 

Ma-ry,  meanwhile,  signalled  to  Inez,  to  ask  whether 


or,  Show  your  Passports  425 

she  might  not  be  needed  on  the  house-top  the  next 
morning.  Things  might  be  mentioned  in  the  house 
which  needed  to  be  published  there.  But  Inez  re- 
assured the  loyal  girl ;  and  in  five  minutes  more  her 
little  packet  was  ready,  and  she  kissed  Sister  Barbara 
"  good-by,"  forever,  —  as  it  proved. 

"But  the  little  dog,  ma'm'selle, —  the  little  dog. 
He  will  be  wretched  without  you,  and  you  will  be 
wretched  without  him." 

With  the  gravity  of  a  bishop,  and  with  a  penitent's 
conscience  smiting  her,  Ma-ry  explained  that  she 
had  not  seen  the  little  dog  since  yesterday.  And 
Inez  hastened  to  add  that  he  was  safe  at  home. 
And  so,  with  some  jest  on  the  dog's  preferring  the 
fare  at  one  house  to  that  of  the  other,  they  parted. 
And  thus,  to  use  the  common  phrase  which  Miss 
Edgeworth  so  properly  condemns,  Miss  Ma-ry 's 
"  education  was  finished." 

They  met  the  gentlemen  at  dinner.  Antoine  and 
Felix  were  tolerated  as  long  as  might  be ;  and,  for  so 
long  time,  the  talk  was  of  Harrod's  experience,  of 
Lonsdale's  trials,  of  Mrs.  Willson's  wanderings,  and 
of  Ma-ry's  recollections.  But,  as  soon  as  these  two 
worthies  could  be  dismissed,  serious  consultations 
began  again. 

The  two  consuls  had  had  as  little  success  as  the 
unofficial  gentlemen  had  had.  Indeed,  they  had 
anticipated  no  success.  Arbitrary  as  the  Spanish 
rule  always  was,  it  had  till  lately  been  sensible  and 
mild  until  Salcedo,  to  whom,  rightly  or  not,  Harrod 
ascribed  the  change  of  policy  which  had  swept  even 
De  Nava  away,  and  whom  Harrod  made  responsible 


426  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

for  Nolan's  murder.     Under  Salcedo,  the    rule    had 
been  abrupt,  tyrannical,  and  inexplicable. 

"You  would  think,"  said  Lonsdale,  "  that  the 
approaching  cession  to  the  French  prefect  would 
make  the  Spaniards  more  tolerant  and  gentle.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  they  seem  to  want  to  cling  to 
power  to  the  last,  and  to  show  that  Laussat  is  nobody. 
Laussat  is  a  fool,  so  our  consul  thinks,  — a  fussy,  pre- 
tentious fool.  He  came  here  as  prefect,  with  great 
notions,  with  great  talk  of  the  army  behind  him ;  and 
he  has  not  yet  so  much  as  a  corporal's  guard  for 
his  ceremonies.  The  Spaniards  make  fun  of  him; 
and  even  the  Frenchmen  cannot  make  much  else  of 
him. 

"  Yes ;  if  he  were  not  here,  we  should  fare  better. 
From  this  double-headed  government,  it  is  hard  to 
know  what  we  may  look  for.  One  thing  is  fortunate," 
he  added  dryly :  "  we  have  three  or  four  frigates  and 
their  tenders,  within  a  day  of  the  Balize.  I  have 
bidden  Hutchings  send  down  word  that  they  are  to 
be  off  the  Pass  till  they  have  other  orders." 

Eunice  only  looked  her  gratitude;  but  she  cer- 
tainly blushed  crimson.  Inez  was  forced  to  say, 
"  How  good  you  are !  "  But  this  time  she  was 
frightened.  Even  she  did  not  dare  to  say,  "  Who 
are  you?" 

But  who  was  he?  Who  was  this  man  who  said  to 
the  English  fleet,  "  Sail  here,"  or  "  Sail  there,"  and  it 
obeyed  him?  And  why  did  Aunt  Eunice  blush? 
What  had  they  been  doing  and  saying  at  Natchez, 
and  in  this  six-days'  voyage  down  the  river?  Was 
Aunt  Eunice  to  be  Duchess  of  Clarence,  after  all? 


or,  Show  your  Passports  427 

The  truth  was,  that  Mr.  Lonsdale  and  Aunt  Eunice 
had  come  at  each  other  very  thoroughly.  First,  their 
correspondence  had  helped  to  this;  for  nothing 
teaches  two  people  who  have  been  much  together, 
how  much  they  rest  on  each  other,  as  an  occasional 
separation,  with  its  eager  yearning  for  messages  or 
letters.  Horace  Lonsdale  needed  no  teaching  on 
this  matter.  Eunice  was  perhaps  surprised  when  she 
found  how  lonely  a  summer  was  in  which  she  did 
not  see  him  as  often  as  once  a  week.  After  this  part- 
ing had  come  the  renewed  intimacy  at  Natchez;  and, 
from  the  first,  they  found  themselves  on  a  personal 
footing  different  from  that  of  the  spring.  She  had 
found  him  the  loyal  and  chivalrous  English  gentle- 
man, which,  indeed,  he  had  shown  himself  from  the 
first  moment  that  she  had  known  him.  He  had 
found  her  always  the  same  unselfish  woman  she  was 
then  and  there.  It  had  been  hard  for  him  to  come  at 
her,  to  give  to  her  the  whole  certainty  of  his  enthu- 
siastic admiration;  because  Eunice  Perry  was  quite 
out  of  the  fashion  of  asking  herself  what  people 
thought  of  her,  or,  indeed,  of  believing  that  they 
thought  of  her  at  all.  If  the  truth  were  told,  Horace 
Lonsdale  had  not  been  used,  in  other  circles,  to  meet 
women  as  entirely  indifferent  to  his  social  position  as 
was  Eunice  Perry.  He  might,  indeed,  have  travelled 
far,  before  he  found  a  woman  so  indifferent  to  her 
own  accomplishments,  so  unconscious  of  remarkable 
beauty,  and  so  willing  to  use  each  and  every  gift  in 
the  service  of  other  people,  as  she. 

To  pay  court  to  this  unconscious  vestal,  was  no 
easy  matter.  So  Horace  Lonsdale  thought.  Words 


428  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

or  attentions  which  many  a  pretty  countrywoman  of 
his  would  have  welcomed  with  delight,  in  the  false 
and  unbalanced  social  habits  of  London  in  those 
days,  passed  by  Eunice  Perry  as  if  he  did  not  exist, 
had  never  spoken  the  word,  or  offered  the  attention. 
He  found  very  soon,  that,  if  he  meant  to  render  her 
service,  it  must  be  by  serving  those  she  loved ;  and 
he  counted  himself  fortunate,  and  fortunate  he  was, 
that  the  chaotic  condition  of  the  times  in  which  they 
moved  gave  him,  once  and  again,  the  opportunity 
to  do  so. 

The  absurd  stories  as  to  who  and  what  he  was 
had,  of  course,  their  share  of  foundation.  He  was  a 
younger  son  of  the  distinguished  family  whose  name 
he  bore,  and  had  been  placed  in  the  English  Foreign 
Office,  when  yet  young,  for  education  and  for  pro- 
motion. Choosing  to  use  the  opportunities  of  his 
position,  in  a  time  when  every  day  furnished  the 
material  for  a  romance,  instead  of  flirting  at  Almack's 
or  riding  in  Hyde  Park,  he  had  been  intrusted  with 
one  and  another  confidential  duty,  in  which  he  had 
distinguished  himself.  As  the  new  century  opened, 
the  plots  of  Miranda  in  Cuba  and  on  the  Spanish 
Main,  the  insurrection  in  St.  Domingo,  and  the  cer- 
tainty of  a  change  in  Louisiana,  made  it  necessary  for 
his  chiefs  to  seek  more  accurate  information  than 
they  had,  as  to  the  condition  of  the  Spanish  colonies. 
Such  a  man  as  Lonsdale  would  not  shrink  from  an 
appointment  which  gave  him  almost  carte  blanche  in 
travelling  in  those  regions,  then  almost  unknown  to 
Europe.  His  social  standing,  his  rank  in  the  diplo- 
matic service,  and  the  commission  he  was  intrusted 


or,  Show  your  Passports  429 

with,  gave  him  the  best  introductions  everywhere. 
And,  when  the  ladies  of  our  party  met  him  at 
Antonio,  he  was  in  good  faith  pursuing  the  inquiries 
regarding  the  power  of  Spain  which  had  been  con- 
fided to  him. 

The  absurd  story  that  he  was  the  Duke  of  Clar- 
ence had  grown  up  in  some  joke  in  a  London  club; 
but  it  had  found  its  way  to  one  and  another  English 
ship  on  the  West  India  station,  and  from  these  vessels 
had  diffused  itself,  as  poor  jokes  will,  in  the  society  of 
almost  every  place  where  Lonsdale  made  any  stay. 
In  truth,  it  was  very  absurd.  He  was  five  years 
younger  than  the  duke,  was  taller  and  handsomer. 
But  he  had  light  hair  worn  without  powder,  a  fresh 
healthy  complexion,  so  that,  as  Inez  afterward  told 
him  when  she  condescended  to  take  him  into  favor, 
he  looked  so  handsome  and  so  much  as  one  wanted 
a  king's  son  to  look,  that  everybody  took  it  for 
granted  that  he  was  one.  However  that  might  be, 
the  rumor  was  sometimes  a  very  great  convenience 
to  Horace  Lonsdale,  and  sometimes  such  a  bore  and 
nuisance  as  to  arouse  all  his  rage.  He  said,  himself, 
that,  whatever  else  it  did,  it  always  doubled  the 
charges  on  his  tavern  bills. 

Lonsdale  had  not  let  the  favorable  opportunity 
pass,  which  his  visit  to  Natchez,  and  the  escort  he 
gave  Eunice  Perry  to  New  Orleans,  afforded  him. 
He  told  her,  like  a  gentleman,  that  her  love  and  life 
were  inestimably  precious  to  him ;  that  the  parting 
for  a  summer  had  taught  him  that  they  never  could 
be  parted  again.  And  Eunice,  who  for  fifteen  years 
had  let  the  admiration  of  a  hundred  men  drift  by  her 


430  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

unobserved  and  unrequited ;  who  had  quietly  put  fifty 
men  on  their  guard  that  they  should  come  no  closer, 
and  had  sent  fifty  away  sadly  who  would  not  take  her 
hint,  and  pressed  too  near,  —  Eunice  told  him  the 
truth.  She  told  him  that  once  and  again,  in  the 
anxieties  of  that  summer,  she  had  caught  herself 
wishing  for  his  sympathy  and  counsel,  —  nay,  if  the 
truth  must  be  told,  for  a  cheery  tone  of  his,  or  a 
cheery  look  of  his,  before  she  had  wished  even  for 
her  brother's  help,  or  for  Inez's  love ;  and,  when  she 
said  this  to  Horace  Lonsdale,  Horace  Lonsdale  was 
made  perfectly  happy. 

But  all  this  narrative,  so  uninteresting  to  the  young 
reader  of  seventeen,  who  seeks  in  these  pages  only 
the  history  of  her  country,  does  but  interrupt  the 
story  of  the  fate  of  Silas  Perry  and  Seth  Ransom. 

The  formal  interview  with  the  Spanish  governor, 
and  with  Laussat,  the  French  prefect,  took  place  the 
next  morning  after  Lonsdale  and  Miss  Perry  came 
down  the  river.  Only  these  two  officers  with  their 
secretaries,  and  the  fussy  young  Salcedo  in  a  very 
brilliant  uniform,  were  present  to  represent  the  French 
and  Spanish  Governments :  to  represent  the  insulted 
merchants,  only  the  English  and  American  con- 
suls, with  Mr.  Lonsdale  and  William  Harrod,  were 
admitted. 

And,  oh  the  horrors  of  the  red  tape  of  a  Spanish 
inquiry !  Ransom  had  not  exaggerated  when  he  said 
they  copied  what  he  said  four  times  for  the  king 
to  read.  And  what  with  soothing  Laussat's  ruffled 
dignity  by  interpreting  into  French,  and  meeting 
Castilian  punctilio  by  talking  Spanish,  while  every 


or,  Show  your  Passports  431 

person  present  spoke  English  and  understood  it,  the 
ordinary  fuss  was  made  more  fussy,  and  the  ordi- 
nary misery  more  miserable. 

But  no  promise,  either  of  a  trial  or  of  a  release, 
could  be  extorted.  Laussat,  the  Frenchman,  talked 
endlessly ;  but  he  had,  and  knew  he  had,  no  power, 
—  strictly  speaking,  he  had  no  business  there.  The 
same  might  be  said  of  young  Salcedo,  who  talked, 
however,  more  than  any  one  but  his  father,  and  to 
no  purpose.  He  had  come,  as  was  his  wont,  without 
being  asked.  The  governor  had  summoned  Laussat, 
only  as  a  later  man  in  power  used  to  invoke  Mr. 
Jorkins  when  he  wanted  to  avoid  responsibility.  The 
governor  himself  said  little,  and  explained  nothing. 
The  consuls  made  their  protests,  made  their  threats, 
which  were  written  down  "  for  the  king  to  read ;  " 
but  the  governor  declared  he  was  under  orders. 
Count  Cornel,  Minister  of  the  Colonies  at  Madrid, 
had  written  thus  and  so ;  and  who  was  a  poor  local 
governor  to  stand  one  instant  before  Count  Cornel? 

After  this  had  been  said  six  times,  and  the  protest 
had  been  five  times  renewed,  Lonsdale  rose,  and  said 
gravely,  — 

"  Then  we  must  leave  your  excellency.  The  trans- 
action appears  to  me  much  more  serious  than  your 
excellency  thinks  it.  Your  excellency  claims  the 
right  to  send  British  subjects  secretly  to  Cuba  for 
trial.  We  resist  that  right:  I  say  resist,  where  my 
colleague  said  protest.  I  ought  to  inform  your  ex- 
cellency, that  I  sent  directions  this  morning  to  his 
Britannic  Majesty's  naval  officer  in  command  below 
the  Pass.  That  officer  will  search  every  vessel  com- 


432  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

ing  down  the  river,  and  will  rescue  any  British  subject 
he  finds  pn  board,  though  that  subject  be  on  a  ship- 
of-war  of  the  King  of  Spain/' 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Governor  Salcedo 
himself  did  not  maintain  the  haughty  look  of  in- 
difference which  he  had  pretended.  He  looked 
Lonsdale  steadily  and  anxiously  in  the  eye.  Laussat 
pretended  not  to  hear  what  was  said.  The  secre- 
taries prepared  four  copies  for  the  king. 

"  And  will  the  American  squadron  look  for  Ameri- 
can citizens?"  said  the  governor  at  last  with  a  sneer. 

"  I  think  there  are  no  American  vessels  of  war 
there,"  replied  Lonsdale  quietly.  "  If  they  were, 
Mr.  Clark  would  communicate  with  them,  I  suppose." 

"And  how  does  your  order,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  affect 
the  persons  who  as  you  say  are  our  prisoners;  for 
whom,  observe,  I  disclaim  all  responsibility?" 

"  Your  excellency  cannot  mistake  me.  Silas  Perry 
and  Seth  Ransom  are  both  subjects  of  George  the 
Third." 

"  The  American  consul  has  claimed  them  as  Ameri- 
can citizens,"  said  the  governor  in  excitement.  "  And 
you  must  pardon  me,  Mr.  Lonsdale:  your  ignorance 
is  that  of  a  stranger;  their  nationality  is  perfectly 
known  here.  No  person  so  important  in  the 
American  interest,  always  excepting  the  honorable 
consul,  as  Mr.  Silas  Perry;  unless,  indeed,  Senor 
Ransom's  claim  is  superior  to  his,  as  he  certainly 
supposes  it  to  be." 

"I  speak  of  facts,"  replied  Lonsdale,  — "  facts 
everywhere  known.  These  men  were  born  British 
subjects.  It  is  true  that  the  State  of  Massachusetts, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  433 

in  which  they  were  born,  is  no  longer  a  part  of  the 
British  Empire ;  but  these  men,  born  under  the  flag 
of  England,  were  not  residents  of  Massachusetts 
when  that  change  took  place.  They  have  never 
forfeited  their  allegiance  to  the  King  of  England, 
nor  his  protection.  They  are  under  the  English 
flag  to-day." 

Everybody  was  amazed  at  this  bold  position  so 
suddenly  assumed  by  this  calm  man.  For  a  moment 
there  was  silence.  Then  the  governor  said,  — 

"It  is  too  late  to-day;  but,  if  the  men  can  be 
found  in  this  jurisdiction,  we  will  learn  from  them 
to  what  nation  they  belong." 

"And  when  shall  we  have  this  privilege,"  asked 
Mr.  Lonsdale  boldly,  "  of  seeing  the  prisoners,  who, 
as  I  had  understood,  were  not  known  by  your  ex- 
cellency to  be  imprisoned?" 

"  To-morrow  is  Sunday,"  said  the  governor  with 
equal  coolness.  "  I  understand  that  it  will  be  dis- 
agreeable to  Englishmen  and  Americans  to  attend 
to  business  then.  Shall  we  say  Tuesday?  " 

"No  day  better  than  Sunday  for  an  act  of  the 
simplest  justice,"  said  Lonsdale. 

The  governor  had  committed  himself;  and  it  was 
agreed  that  after  mass  the  same  party  should  meet 
again. 

And  then  the  English  and  American  gentlemen 
were  bowed  out  of  the  room;  and  the  four  clerks 
completed  their  four  memoirs  for  the  king. 


434  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII 

WHAT  NEXT? 
"  To-morrow  is  behind.'1  —  DRYDEN. 

THAT  night  was  an  eventful  night  in  the  little  Ameri- 
can "  colony."  Daniel  Clark's  magnificent  mansion, 
the  consulate  and  its  dependent  offices,  Davis's  rope- 
walk  on  Canal  Street,  and,  indeed,  every  vessel  in 
the  stream,  had  its  great  or  little  consultation  of 
outraged  and  indignant  men.  It  was  not  the  first 
time  in  which  the  handful  of  Americans  in  Orleans 
had  had  to  consult  together  as  to  their  mutual  pro- 
tection. We  have  still  extant  the  little  notes  which 
Daniel  Clark  from  time  to  time  sent  up  to  General 
Wilkinson,  who  commanded  the  American  army, 
and  whose  quarters  were  as  near  as  Fort  Adams 
in  Mississippi,  arranging  for  the  co-operation  of 
the  Americans  within  and  the  Americans  without 
when  the  time  should  come.  And  the  army  was 
not  unwilling  to  make  the  dash  down  the  river. 
It  was  held  in  the  leash  not  too  easily.  Constant 
Freeman  and  other  tried  officers  knew  to  a  pound 
the  weight  of  those  honeycombed  guns  on  the  Span- 
ish works;  they  longed  to  try  a  sharp,  prompt 
escalade  against  those  rotten  palisades;  and  there 
was  not  a  man  of  them  but  was  sure  that  the  hand- 
ful of  Franco-Spanish  troops  would  give  way  in 
half  an  hour  before  that  resolute  rush,  when  it 
should  be  made.  Whether,  indeed,  the  gates  were 


or,  Show  your  Passports  435 

not  first  opened  by  the  two  hundred  insulted  and 
determined  Americans  within,  would  be  a  question. 

It  was  all  a  question  of  time,  for  the  two  or  three 
years  of  which  this  story  has  been  telling.  The 
Americans  within  the  city  were  always  believing 
that  the  time  had  come.  General  Wilkinson  was 
always  patting  them  on  the  back,  and  bidding  them 
keep  all  ready,  but  to  wait  a  little  longer.  Recent 
revelations  in  the  archives  of  Spain  have  made  that 
certain  which  was  then  only  suspected,  that  this 
man  was  at  the  same  time  in  the  regular  pay  of 
the  King  of  Spain  and  of  the  Government  of  the 
United  States.  There  is  therefore  reason  to  doubt 
how  far  his  advice  in  this  matter  was  sincere.  But, 
as  the  end  has  proved  fortunate,  a  good-natured 
people  forgets  the  treason. 

They  would  abide  the  decision  of  the  governor 
and  the  prefect,  to  be  rendered  the  next  day.  If 
then  the  prisoners  were  not  surrendered,  why,  that 
meant  war.  After  the  counsels  of  this  night,  the 
Americans  were  determined.  A  messenger  should 
be  sent  up  the  river  in  a  canoe ;  and,  lest  the  water- 
guard  arrest  him,  Will  Harrod  should  go  up  by  land 
through  the  Creek  country.  Harrod  did  not  decline 
the  commission,  though  he  preferred  to  remain  with- 
in, where,  as  he  believed,  would  be  the  post  of  dan- 
ger. So  soon  as  the  consultation  was  ended,  he 
hurried  to  Mr.  Perry's  house  to  tell  the  ladies  such 
chances  as  the  meeting  gave.  But  he  was  too  late 
for  them  that  evening. 

It  was  in  the  loveliness  of  early  morning  the  next 
day,  with  every  rose  at  its  sweetest,  every  mocking- 


436  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

bird  vying  with  its  fellow,  every  magnolia  loading  the 
air  with  its  rich  perfume,  that  the  brave  fellow  came 
running  down  into  the  garden,  and  found  Inez  there. 
He  told  her  hastily  what  was  determined,  and  that 
the  wishes  of  these  gentlemen,  which  he  must  regard 
as  commands,  compelled  him  to  leave  her  and  her 
aunt,  just  at  the  time,  of  all  times,  when  he  wanted 
to  be  nearest  to  them. 

"Dear  Inez/1  he  said  boldly,  "  you  know  that  I 
would  not  move  from  your  side  but  in  the  wish  to 
serve  you.  You  know  that  I  have  no  thought,  no 
wish,  no  prayer  in  life,  but  that  I  may  serve  you. 
You  do  not  know  that,  for  two  years  and  more, 
I  have  thought  of  you  first,  of  you  last,  of  you  al- 
ways; that  there  is  no  wish  of  my  heart,  nay,  no 
thought  of  my  life,  but  is  yours,  —  wholly  yours.  I 
should  die  if  I  were  to  part  from  you  without  say- 
ing this;  and  I  wish,  my  dear  Inez,  that  you  would 
let  me  say  a  thousand  times  more." 

He  had  never  called  her  Inez,  of  course,  without 
that  fatal  "  Miss  " ;  far  less,  of  course,  had  he  ever 
called  her  "dear." 

But  the  gallant  fellow  had  resolved,  that  come 
what  might,  and  let  Inez  say  what  she  may,  he 
would  call  her  "  dear  Inez  "  once,  if  he  died  for  it. 
Now  he  had  made  a  chance  to  do  so  twice  before 
he  let  her  answer.  And  so  he  waited  bravely  for 
her  reply. 

Poor  Inez ! 

She  looked  up  at  him,  and  she  tried  to  smile,  and 
the  smile  would  not  come.  Only  her  great  eyes 
brimmed  full  of  tears,  which  would  not  run  over. 


or,  Show  your  Passports  437 

She  looked  down,  she  turned  pale;  she  knew  she 
did,  and  he  saw  she  did.  Still  he  waited,  and  still 
she  tried  to  speak.  She  stopped  in  their  walk,  she 
turned  resolutely  toward  him ;  and  now  she  was 
so  pale  that  he  grew  pale  as  she  looked  up  at  him. 
And  she  gave  him  her  hand  slowly. 

"I  will  speak/*  she  said,  almost  gasping,  that 
she  might  do  so, — "I  will  speak.  Will  Harrod, 
dear  Will  Harrod/'  a  smile  at  last,  or  an  effort  at 
a  smile  in  all  her  seriousness,  "  I  love  you  better 
than  my  life." 

And  then  she  could  hardly  stand ;  but  there  was 
little  need.  Will  Harrod's  arms  were  round  her,  and 
there  was  little  danger  that  she  should  fall.  And 
then  they  walked  up  one  avenue,  and  down  another, 
and  they  talked  back  through  one  year,  and  forward 
through  another,  and  tried  to  recall  — yes,  and  did 
recall  —  every  single  ride  upon  the  prairie  in  those 
happy  days,  —  what  he  said  above  the  Blanco  River, 
and  what  she  said  that  day  by  the  San  Marcos 
Spring  ;  and  if  he  ought  to  have  thought  that  that 
cluster  of  grapes  meant  anything,  and  if  she  remem- 
bered the  wreath  of  the  creeper ;  and  all  the  thou- 
sand nothings  of  old  happy  times,  when  they  dreamed 
so  little  of  what  was  before  them.  For  one  happy 
quarter-hour  now,  they  even  forgot  the  dangers  and 
miseries  of  to-day. 

Yes;  and  when  they  came  back  to  them,  as  back 
they  must  come,  oh,  how  much  more  endurable  they 
were,  and  how  much  more  certain  was  she  and  was 
he,  that  all  would  come  out  well !  If  he  must  go  to 
Natchez,  why,  he  must;  but  no  parting  now  could 


438  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

be  so  terrible  as  that  other  parting,  when  they  did 
not  know. 

They  went  in  to  join  the  party  at  breakfast.  Har- 
rod  was  ready  to  kiss  Inez  twenty  times  in  pres- 
ence of  them  all.  But  Inez  was  far  more  proper 
and  diplomatic.  Still,  as  she  passed  her  aunt,  she 
stooped  and  kissed  her,  and  said  in  a  whisper, — 

"  Darling  aunty,  you  have  not  told  me  your  se- 
cret, but  you  are  welcome  to  mine.11 

And  happier  than  any  queen,  she  went  through 
the  pretty  ministries  of  the  table  ;  and  Ma-ry  knew, 
by  intuition,  that  everything  was  well. 

Was  everything  well  ?  That,  alas !  must  be  de- 
cided at  the  formal  hearing  of  the  afternoon,  when 
the  prisoners  were  to  be  brought  forward,  "  if  they 
could  be  found  within  this  jurisdiction." 

It  proved,  as  might  be  expected,  that  they  "  could 
be  found,"  although,  to  the  last,  the  governor  and  his 
son  and  the  intendant  had  said,  and  the  prefect  had 
intimated,  that  they  would  not  acknowledge  that  they 
knew  anything  about  either  of  them. 

"It  is  all  like  Pontius  Pilate,  and  Herod,  and 
Annas  the  high-priest,"  said  Asaph  Ruling.  "  Shift- 
ing and  shirking,  and  only  agreeing  in  lying !  " 

So  soon  as  the  consuls  and  Mr.  Lonsdale  and 
Harrod  had  appeared,  and  made  their  compliments, 
the  governor's  son  nodded,  and  a  sort  of  orderly 
disappeared.  In  a  moment  Ransom  entered,  and, 
in  a  moment  more,  Silas  Perry  on  the  other  side. 
Ransom's  beard  had  grown,  and  his  clothes  were 
soiled  ;  evidently  none  of  the  elegances  of  hospitality 


or,  Show  your  Passports  439 

had  been  wasted  upon  him ;  but  he  was  fully  master 
of  the  position;  he  came  in  as  if  he  were  directing 
the  policemen  who  brought  him  ;  he  bowed  civilly  to 
Mr.  Ruling,  to  Mr.  Hutchings,  to  Mr.  Harrod,  and  to 
Mr.  Lonsdale;  but,  as  for  the  prefect  and  the  gov- 
ernor, they  might  as  well  have  been  statues  in  the 
decoration.  He  took  a  seat,  and  the  seat  which 
was  intended,  by  a  sort  of  divine  instinct,  and  sat,  as 
if  he  were  the  lord  high  chancellor,  before  whom  all 
these  people  had  been  summoned. 

Silas  Perry  was  neatly  dressed,  and  had  not,  in 
fact,  been  left  to  suffer  personal  indignity  or  in- 
convenience: but  he  was  pale  and  nervous;  he 
seemed  to  Lonsdale  ten  years  older  than  when  he 
saw  him  last. 

Harrod  had  never  seen  him  before ;  but  Mr.  Perry's 
delight  at  seeing  Ransom  reassured  him.  "  Are  you 
here,  my  dear  Ransom,"  said  he,  "and  what  for?  I 
thought  they  had  thrown  you  into  the  river." 

The  secretaries  hastily  wrote  down  for  the  king's 
information  the  fourfold  statement  that  Don  Silas 
had  supposed  that  the  major-domo  Ransom  had 
been  thrown  into  the  river. 

"  Donno,  sir,"  replied  Ransom  in  a  lower  tone. 
"  Had  me  up  three  times,  cos  they  wanted  to  hear 
the  truth  told  'em,  for  a  kind  of  surprise,  you  know. 
Donno  what  they  want  now/1 

"Then  you  are  a  prisoner  too,  Ransom?  " 

"  Guess  I  be.  Darbies  knocked  off,  jest  afore  I 
come  upstairs." 

And  Ransom  looked  curiously  at  both  windows, 
as  one  who  should  inquire  how  easy  it  might  be  to 


440  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

break  these  two  governors'  heads  together  by  one 
sudden  blow,  and,  with  one  leap,  emancipate  him- 
self from  custody;  but  he  had  no  serious  thought 
of  abandoning  the  company  he  was  in. 

The  governor  tapped  impatiently;  and  a  kind  of 
major-domo  with  a  black  gown  on,  who  had  not  been 
present  the  day  before,  came  and  told  Ransom  to  be 
silent.  Mr.  Perry  told  him  the  same  thing,  and  he 
obeyed. 

"  We  have  no  necessity  for  any  formal  investiga- 
tions/' said  the  governor,  in  a  courtly  conversational 
manner,  which  he  was  proud  of.  "  I  had  almost  said 
we  are  all  friends.  Many  of  us  are.  I  hope  Don 
Silas  recognizes  me  as  one.  But  all  purposes  will  be 
best  answered  if  Don  Silas  will  mention  to  these  gen- 
tlemen his  name,  his  age,  and  his  nationality." 

Lonsdale  shuddered.  If  the  Yankee  should  say, 
"  Silas  Perry,  age  sixty-two,  an  American  citizen/1 
he  would  be  out  of  court.  But  Mr.  Perry  answered 
firmly,  — 

"  I  should  like  to  know  where  I  am.  If  this  is  a 
court,  I  demand  to  know  what  I  am  tried  for." 

"Indeed  this  is  no  court,  my  dear  friend/'  said  the 
courtly  governor :  "  we  have  met,  at  the  request 
of  these  gentlemen,  for  a  little  friendly  conversa- 
tion." 

"  Then  I  hope  these  gentlemen  and  your  excellency 
will  converse,"  said  Mr.  Perry  bitterly.  "  I  have  al- 
ways found  I  profited  more  by  listening  than  by 
talking." 

"  You  do  yourself  injustice,  Don  Silas.  We  had  a 
question  here  yesterday  which  only  you,  it  seems,  can 


or,  Show  your  Passports  441 

answer.      These  gentlemen,  in  fact,  asked  for  your 
presence,  that  we  might  obtain  satisfaction." 

"  If  I  am  to  obtain  any,"  said  Perry,  undaunted,  "  I 
must  know  whether  I  am  a  prisoner  here  to  be  bad- 
gered, or  a  freeman  permitted  to  go  at  large.  As  a 
freeman,  I  will  render  any  help  to  these  gentlemen  or 
to  your  excellency,  as  I  always  have  done  loyally,  as 
your  excellency  has  more  than  once  acknowledged 
to  me.  As  a  prisoner,  I  say  nothing,  —  no,  not  even 
under  a  Spanish  examination." 

This  with  a  sneer,  which  the  governor  perfectly 
comprehended. 

"  You  ask,"  said  he,  "  precisely  the  question  which 
you  are  here  to  answer ;  or,  rather,  the  answer  may 
be  said  to  depend  upon  your  answer  to  my  friend 
here.  The  American  consul  here  is  claiming  your 
person  as  an  American  citizen.  The  British  consul 
intervenes,  and,  as  I  understand  the  matter,  claims 
you  as  a  subject  of  George  the  Third.  It  is  impos- 
sible for  us  here  even  to  consider  their  claims,  till 
we  know  in  what  light  you  hold  yourself." 

"  I  a  subject  of  George  the  Third !  "  cried  Perry 
incredulously.  "  I  did  not  think  George  the  Third 
himself  was  crazy  enough  to  say  that;  and  I  believe 
his  Majesty  has  heard  my  name." 

But,  at  the  moment,  he  caught  Lonsdale's  eager 
and  imploring  eye.  Lonsdale  waved  in  his  hand  a 
card ;  and  Silas  Perry  was  conscious,  for  the  first  mo- 
ment, that  he  also  held  one.  Ransom  had  slipped  it 
into  his  hand,  as  he  rose  to  address  the  governor; 
but  till  now  he  had  not  looked  at  it.  He  paused 
now,  and  read  what  was  written  on  it. 


442  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

"  I  have  claimed  you  as  a  British  subject.  The  English 
fleet  is  off  the  Pass,  and  will  take  you  off  if  you  admit  the 
claim.  Ransom  too.  The  governor  is  afraid.  Take  our 
protection.  —  LONSDALE." 

Silas  Perry  read  the  card,  nodded  good-humoredly 
to  Lonsdale ;  and  while  the  governor,  amazed  at 
the  manifest  deceit  which  had  been  practised, 
hesitated  what  to  say,  Mr.  Perry  himself  took  the 
word. 

"  I  can  relieve  your  excellency  of  any  question.  I 
am  a  citizen  of  the  United  States.  I  was  born  in 
Squam,  in  Massachusetts,  in  the  year  1741.  When  I 
was  twenty-one  years  of  age  I  removed  to  the  Havana. 
With  every  penny  of  my  purse  and  every  throb  of 
my  heart,  I  assisted  in  that  happy  revolution  which 
separated  those  colonies  from  the  British  crown. 
And  lest,  by  any  misfortune,  my  children  should  be 
regarded  subjects  either  of  George  the  Third  or  of 
Charles  the  Third  on  my  first  visit  to  England  after 
the  peace,  at  the  American  embassy,  I  renounced  all 
allegiance  to  the  King  of  England  and  obtained  the 
certificate  of  my  American  nationality  from  that  man 
who  has  since  been  the  honored  President  of  my 
country.  So  much  for  me. 

"With  regard  to  this  good  fellow,  I  presume  the 
consul  is  technically  right.  Seth  Ransom  was  born 
a  subject  of  George  the  Third.  He  did  not  reside 
in  the  United  States  when  the  treaty  of  peace  was 
made ;  nor  has  he  resided  there  since.  He  is  un- 
doubtedly, at  law,  a  subject  of  the  King  of  England." 

So  saying,  Silas  Perry  sat  down,     The  four  secre- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  443 

taries  provided  four  transcripts  for  the  gratification 
of  their  king. 

"  How  is  this?  "  said  the  governor  himself,  turning 
to  Ransom.  "  Have  you  understood  what  the  gen- 
tleman has  said?  " 

Seth  Ransom  had  been  contemplating  the  ceiling, 
still  in  the  character  of  the  lord  chancellor. 

"  Understood  all  I  wanted  to,"  said  he.  "  Perhaps 
you  did  n't  understand,  cos  he  spoke  English.  Ef 
you  like,  I  '11  put  it  in  Spanish  for  you." 

For,  as  it  happened,  the  etiquettes  of  yesterday 
had  not  been  observed.  The  parties  had  begun  with 
English:  with  English  they  went  on.  But  Ransom, 
for  his  own  purposes,  now  changed  the  language. 

"  You  can  ask  me  what  you  please,"  said  he. 
"  But,  if  you  have  not  sent  the  king  the  other 
things  I  told  you,  you  might  read  them  over;  for 
I  shall  tell  you  the  same  thing  now." 

The  governor  turned  up  the  record  of  Ransom's 
first  examination.  He  then  said,  with  a  sneer, — 

"  This  reads :  '  Seth  Ransom,  being  questioned, 
states  that  he  is  a  citizen  of  Massachusetts,  one  of  the 
United  States  of  America.'  But  I  understand  Don 
Silas  that  this  is  a  mistake,  and  that  we  are  to  say 
that  you  are  a  subject  of  King  George  the  Third." 

"  You  can  say  what  you  like,"  said  Ransom  fiercely, 
in  a  line  of  Castilian  wholly  his  own,  which  was,  how- 
ever, quite  intelligible  to  the  governor,  and  the  four 
secretaries  who  toiled  after.  "  You  know  as  well  as  I 
know  that  whatever  you  say  will  be  a  lie,  and  if  you 
say  that,  it  will  be  the  biggest  lie  of  all." 

Ransom  spoke  hastily,  and  in  his  most  lordly  air  of 


444  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

defiance,  but  not  so  hastily  but  they  could  all  follow 
him;  and  the  secretaries  noted  his  language  in  such 
short-hand  as  they  could  command. 

Mr.  Hutchings,  the  English  consul,  availed  himself 
here  of  the  pretence  that  they  were  conversing  as 
friends  in  the  governor's  office,  and  that  none  of  the 
forms  of  court  were  observed. 

"  Ransom,"  said  he,  "  all  that  we  want  to  prove  is 
that  you  never  appeared  before  a  magistrate  and 
made  oath  of  your  citizenship.  Of  course  we  all 
know  where  you  were  born." 

Ransom  listened  superciliously,  with  one  eye  still 
turned  to  the  heavens. 

"  You  don't  want  me  to  be  lying  too,  Mr.  Hutch- 
ings.  Them  eyedolaters  do,  cos  it 's  their  way.  But 
you  don't." 

And  he  paused,  as  if  for  reflection  and  for  recol- 
lection. 

Lonsdale  took  courage  from  the  pause  to  say,  — 

"  Of  course,  the  king's  officers  have  no  claim  on 
you ;  but  we  are  all  friends  now,  and  all  the  king's 
officers  want  is  a  right  to  befriend  you." 

A  bland  smile  crept  over  Ransom's  face. 

"  Much  obliged,"  said  he:  "  they  's  befriended  me 
afore  now." 

Then,  as  if  this  "  solemn  mockery  "  had  gone  far 
enough,  he  turned  to  the  governor,  and  said,  again 
in  Spanish,  — 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  When  the  war  began, 
General  Washington  wanted  powder,  —  he  wanted  it 
badly ;  and  he  said  to  old  Mugford  that  he  'd  better 
go  down  the  bay,  and  catch  some  English  store-ships 


or,  Show  your  Passports  445 

for  him.  And  I  volunteered  under  Mugford,  and 
went  down  with  him.  And  we  took  the  powder, 
and  drove  those  fellows  out  of  Boston." 

The  Castilian  language  furnished  Ransom  with 
some  very  happy  epithets  —  as  terms  of  reproach, 
not  to  say  contumely  —  with  which  to  speak  of  the 
English  navy  and  army. 

The  secretaries,  amazed,  wrote  down  this  ridicule 
of  a  king. 

"  After  Mugford  was  killed,  I  went  out  again, — 
first  with  Hopkins,  and  then  with  Manly.  And,  the 
first  time,  I  went  to  Hopkins's  shipping-office,  down 
at  Newport ;  and  I  swore  on  the  Bible  that  I  'd  never 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  George  the  Third, 
nor  any  of  that  crew,  —  poor  miserable  sons  of 
dogs  as  they  were;  and,  when  I  went  with  Manly,  I 
shipped  at  old  Bill  Coram's  office,  and  he  had  a  Bible 
too,  and  I  swore  the  same  thing  again/' 

Of  all  which  the  secretaries  made  quadruplicate 
narrative. 

"That  time  his  fellows  caught  us,"  continued  Ran- 
som, pointing  over  his  shoulder  at  Lonsdale.  "  We 
were  under  the  Bermudas,  waiting  for  the  Jamaica 
fleet ;  and  there  came  a  fog,  and  the  wind  fell ;  and, 
when  the  fog  rose,  I  '11  be  damned  if  we  were  not 
under  the  guns  of  a  seventy-four,  —  the  '  Charlotte; ' 
and  they  boarded  us,  and  carried  every  man  to  Eng- 
land. And  that's  the  only  time  I  ever  ate  his  bread," 
—  pointing  again  to  Lonsdale,  —  "  black  stuff,  and 
nasty  it  was  too.  That  was  at  Plymouth. 

"  I  lived  there  a  year.  And  once  every  month  a 
miserable  creature  in  a  red  coat  —  one  of  his  fellows 


446  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

—  came  and  asked  us  to  take  service  in  the  king's 
navy.     And    there   were    some   dirty   Spanish    and 
Portuguese,  and    niggers  [this  in  English],  —  lying 
dogs,  all  of  them,  —  that  did.     But  all  the  Ameri- 
cans told  him  to  go  to  hell,  and  I  suppose  he  went 
there,  because  I  have  never  seen  him  since. 

"  And  at  last  there  was  an  exchange,  —  exchanged 
a  thousand  of  us  against  a  thousand  of  his  fellows 
we  had.  Poor  bargain  he  made  too  !  And  that  time 
they  took  me  over  to  France ;  and  they  made  me 
captain  of  the  squad,  because  I  could  speak  their 
lingo,  —  the  same  as  I  speak  yours,  because  you 
do  not  know  any  better.  And  there  we  saw  the 
man  that  told  the  King  of  France  what  he  'd  better 
do,  —  same  man  that  fixed  the  lightning-rod  on 
Boston  Light.  King  George  did  not  know  how. 
King  fixed  it  wrong,  —  did  everything  wrong.'* 

The  secretaries,  amazed,  entered  these  statements 
on  King  George's  knowledge  of  electricity. 

"  White-haired  old  man  he  was,  —  long-haired  man, 

—  sort  of  a  Quaker ;  and  he  came  and  asked  all  that 
were  Americans  to  come  to  his  place,  and  take  the 
oath.     So  I  took  it  there,  —  that's  three  times.     And 
he  gave  me  my  certificate,  —  *  purtection '  they  call 
it," — turning   to  the   secretaries   to    give  them   the 
word   in  English,  —  "and   when   any  of  his  men  — 
the  king's,  I  mean  —  see  that,  why,  they  can't  take 
a  fellow  out  of  any  ship  at  all.     And  there  it  is :    if 
you  think  your  king  would  like  to  know  what  it  says, 
I  '11  read  it  to  you.     I  always  keep  it  by  me ;    and 
these  fellows  of  yours,  when  they  stole  everything 
else    I  had  the  day  you  sent  them  after  me,  they 


or,  Show  your  Passports  447 

did  n't  find  it,  because  I  did  not  choose  to  have 
them.  You'd  better  tell  that  to  the  king.  Tell 
him  they  are  all  fools,  and  good  for  nothing." 

By  this  time  Ransom  was  worked  into  a  terrible 
passion.  He  still  commanded  himself  enough,  how- 
ever, to  hold  the  precious  paper  out,  and  to  read  in 
English,  — 

"KNOW  ALL   MEN, 

By  these  presents,  that  Seth  Ransom,  of  Tatnuck,  Worcester 
County,  in  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  one  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  hath  this  day  appeared  before 
me,  and  renounced  all  allegiance  to  all  kings  and  powers, 
save  to  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  and,  in  es- 
pecial, all  allegiance  to  King  George  the  Third,  his  heirs 
and  successors. 

"  And  the  said  Seth  Ransom  hath  hereby  given  to  him 
THE  PROTECTION  of  the  United  States  of  America  in 
all  and  every  of  his  legal  enterprises  by  sea  or  by  land,  of 
which  these  presents  are  the  certificate. 
"  Signed, 

"  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN, 

"  Minister  of  the  United  States. 
"  Witness, 

"  WILLIAM  TEMPLE  FRANKLIN, 

"Passy,  near  Paris,  June  16,  1781." 

Ransom  knew  the  paper  by  heart.  He  read  it 
as  an  orator  —  with  some  break-down  on  the  long 
words. 

This  short  address  produced  no  little  sensation. 
Two  secretaries  crossed  to  take  the  paper  to  copy  it. 
Ransom  stepped  forward  to  give  it  to  them,  stumbled 


448  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

and  fell  as  he  did  so.  When  he  rose,  he  apologized, 
—  affected  to  have  given  it  to  one  of  the  men ;  they 
were  in  turn  almost  persuaded  each  that  the  other  had 
it.  Between  the  three,  the  paper  could  be  nowhere 
found ;  and  Ransom  cursed  them  with  volumes  of 
rage  because  they  had  stolen  it  so  soon. 

"  Have  you  any  further  inquiries  to  make,  Mr. 
Hutchings?  or  have  you,  Mr.  Lonsdale?"  asked 
the  governor,  addressing  the  English  gentlemen  with 
his  courtly  sneer. 

Before  they  could  reply,  Ransom  rose  again,  and 
waved  his  hand.  Like  Lockhart  before  the  Red 
Comyn,  he  seemed  resolved  to  "  make  sicker." 

"Beg  your  pardon/'  said  he  in  English:  "I  forgot 
to  say  that  I  know  you  want  to  hang  me ;  I  knew 
that  the  first  day  you  shut  me  up  there.  Ef  you 
think  anybody's  forgotten  how  t'other  one — the 
Paddy  governor  —  hung  them  French  gentlemen, 
it 's  because  you  think  we 's  all  fools.  None  on  'em 's 
forgot  it.  O'Reilly,  the  other  one,  died  screamin' 
and  howlin'  in  his  bed,  because  he  see  the  French- 
men all  round  his  room  pointin'  at  him.  You  know 
that  as  well  as  I  do.  Now  you  'd  better  hang  me. 
After  you  've  hanged  me,  you  can  think  up  a  pack 
of  lies,  and  send  'em  to  the  king  to  tell  him  what 
you  hanged  me  for." 

And  then  the  old  man  sat  down  with  a  benignant 
smile.  His  happy  allusion  was  to  that  most  horrible 
judicial  murder  committed  in  the  last  century,  of 
which  he  had  spoken  to  Inez.  For  generations 
the  memory  of  that  horror  did  not  die  out  in  the 
colony.  It  was  the  very  last  subject  which  Salcedo 


or,  Show  your  Passports  449 

would  willingly  hear  alluded  to ;  and  this  old  Ransom 
knew  perfectly  well :  for  that  reason  he  chose  it  for 
his  last  words. 

After  a  ghastly  pause,  Salcedo  said  again,  with 
some  difficulty, — 

"  Have  you  any  further  inquiries  to  make,  gentle- 
men?" 

"  I  have  only  to  protest,  in  all  form,"  said  the 
plucky  English  consul,  "  against  a  transaction  which 
strikes  at  the  root  of  all  commerce  among  nations.  I 
shall  report  the  whole  business  to  the  Foreign  Office, 
and  I  know  that  it  will  meet  the  severe  censure  of 
the  king." 

The  governor  bowed.    He  turned  to  Mr.  Huling:  — 

"  Have  you  any  remarks  to  offer?" 

"I  make  the  same  protest  which  my  clerk  made 
yesterday." 

And  he  read  it,  as  it  had  been  put  on  paper.  He 
added, — 

"  I  assure  your  excellency,  in  that  friendship  to 
which  your  excellency  referred  just  now,  that  no  act 
could  be  so  fatal  to  friendly  relations  for  the  future. 
Let  me  read  to  your  excellency  from  the  debate  in 
the  Senate  of  the  United  States  of  the  23d  of  Feb- 
ruary last.  I  received  the  report  only  last  evening. 
The  Secretary  of  State  instructs  me  to  lay  it  before 
your  excellency;  and  I  am  to  say  that  the  Adminis- 
tration has  the  utmost  difficulty  in  restraining  the 
anger  and  ardor  of  the  country.  If  your  excellency 
will  note  the  words  used  in  debate,  they  mean  simply 
war.  It  is  to  fan  the  flames  of  such  anger  that  your 
excellency  orders  our  friends  sent  to  Cuba  for  trial;  " 

29 


45°  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

and  he  read  from  the  warlike  speeches  of  White  and 
Breckenridge. 

The  governor  listened  with  courtly  indifference. 
When  Mr.  Ruling  had  done,  and  handed  the  papers 
to  a  secretary,  the  governor  said  contemptuously  to 
that  officer, — 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself.  His  Majesty  has 
read  that  debate  three  weeks  ago :  at  least  I  have ;  I 
have  no  doubt  he  has." 

Laussat,  the  French  prefect,  bowed,  and  took  the 
papers.  He  read  them  with  an  interest  which  belied 
the  contempt  affected  by  the  other. 

All  parties  sat  silent,  however.  The  evident  deter- 
mination of  the  governor  to  yield  no  point  made  it 
difficult  to  re-open  the  discussion. 

William  Harrod  was  the  first  to  speak.  With  no 
training  for  diplomacy,  and  no  love  for  it,  he  rose 
abruptly,  and  took  his  hat. 

"  I  understand  your  excellency  to  declare  war 
against  the  United  States :  in  that  case,  I  have  no 
place  here." 

"  You  will  understand  what  you  choose,  young 
man,"  said  the  governor  severely.  "  I  have  never 
understood  why  you  appeared  here  at  all ;  and  I  do 
not  even  now  know  why  I  do  not  arrest  you  for  con- 
tempt of  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty." 

"  Let  me  ask,"  said  Lonsdale,  "  if  your  excellency 
will  not  consent  to  some  delay  in  the  measures 
you  propose  toward  our  friends,  —  a  communication 
home,  or  with  the  city  of  Washington?" 

"  I  have  already  said,  Senor  Lonsdale,  that  the  offi- 
cers of  the  King  of  Spain  do  not  call  councils  of 


or,  Show  your  Passports  451 

foreign  powers  to  assist  them  in  their  administration 
of  justice." 

Lonsdale  bowed,  did  not  speak  again,  but  took  his 
hat  also,  very  angry.  At  this  moment,  however,  to 
the  undisguised  surprise  even  of  the  oldest  diplo- 
matists in  the  group,  their  number  was  enlarged,  as  a 
footman  ushered  into  the  room  Roland  Perry.  He 
was  well  known  to  all  there,  excepting  the  French 
prefect  Laussat  and  Harrod.  He  was  dressed  from 
head  to  foot  in  leather,  and  the  leather  was  very 
muddy.  His  face  was  rough  with  a  beard  which  had 
seen  no  razor  for  a  fortnight,  and  was  burned  brown 
by  a  fortnight's  sun  and  air.  He  held  in  his  hand  the 
sombrero  which  he  had  just  removed,  and  a  heavy 
riding-whip.  He  crossed  the  room  unaffectedly  to 
the  governor,  and  gave  him  his  hand. 

"Your  excellency  must  excuse  my  costume,  but  I 
am  told  that  my  despatches  require  haste." 

He  turned  to  his  father :  — 

"  My  dear  father,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you !  you 
must  have  been  anxious  about  my  disappearance," 
and  he  kissed  him. 

He  shook  hands  cordially  with  the  consuls  and 
with  Lonsdale.  He  offered  his  hand  to  Harrod :  — 

"  It  is  Mr.  Harrod,  I  am  sure." 

He  bowed  to  all  the  secretaries,  and  to  Salcedo's 
son.  He  shook  hands  cordially  with  Ransom.  Then, 
turning  to  the  governor  with  the  same  air  of  confident 
command,  as  if  really  everybody  had  been  waiting 
for  him,  and  nothing  could  be  done  until  he  came:  — 

"Will  you  do  me  the  honor  to  present  me  to  the 
prefect  —  Monsieur  Laussat,  I  believe?  " 


452  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

The  governor,  chafing  a  little  at  this  freedom,  did  as 
he  was  asked,  reserving  for  some  other  moment  the 
rebuke  he  was  about  to  give  to  this  impudent  young 
gentleman. 

Laussat  hardly  understood  the  situation.  But  he 
had  learned  already  that  the  etiquettes  of  America 
were  past  finding  out. 

"  I  had  the  honor  of  meeting  your  excellency  at 
the  house  of  Citizen  La  Place,"  said  Roland  ;  "  but  I 
cannot  expect  that  your  excellency  would  remember 
such  a  youngster.  I  hope  your  excellency  left  the 
Baroness  of  Valcour  in  good  health,  and  your  excel- 
lency's distinguished  father." 

Laussat  also  postponed  the  snubbing  he  was  about 
to  administer,  not  certain  but  he  was  snubbed  himself 
already. 

Roland,  with  the  same  infinite  coolness,  turned  to 
the  governor,  who  was  trying  to  collect  himself. 
Roland  opened  a  large  haversack,  very  muddy,  which 
had  hung  till  now  from  his  shoulder. 

"  This  despatch,  your  excellency,  is  from  Senor 
Yrujo,  the  Spanish  minister  at  Washington.  I  left 
him  only  a  fortnight  Thursday.  His  excellency  bids 
me  assure  your  excellency  of  his  most  distinguished 
consideration.  And  this  despatch,  Citizen  Laussat,  is 
from  the  French  minister.  I  am  charged  with  his 
compliments  to  you." 

This  use  of  the  word  "  citizen,"  which  was  already 
out  of  vogue,  was  necessary  to  Roland's  consummate 
air  of  superiority  over  the  braggart  Frenchman. 

"  And  now,  gentlemen,  as  I  see  these  despatches 
are  long,  will  you  excuse  my  father,  and  my  old 


or,  Show  your  Passports  453 

friend  Ransom  here,  to  both  of  whom  I  have  much  to 
say?  Your  excellency  does  not  know  that  it  is  nearly 
a  year  since  we  have  met." 

This  outrage  was  more  than  the  "  moribund  old 
man"  could  stand. 

"  You  are  quite  too  fast,  Mr.  Perry.  I  know  very 
well  when  you  went  up  the  river  to  foment  war  in 
Kentucky.  I  know  very  well  that  you  failed,  and 
went  to  Washington  on  the  same  errand.  I  know 
that  these  despatches  will  tell  me  of  your  further 
failure.  If  you  wish  to  converse  with  your  father,  it 
will  be  in  this  palace,  where  I  will  provide  accommo- 
dations for  both  of  you." 

"  Your  excellency  is  very  kind,"  said  the  young 
man  with  infinite  good-humor.  "When  your  excel- 
lency and  Citizen  Laussat  have  read  these  papers, 
you  will  perhaps  think  it  better  to  accept  my  father's 
hospitality  than  to  offer  him  yours." 

Then,  as  if  such  badinage  had  gone  far  enough,  he 
turned  with  quite  another  air  to  Laussat:  — 

"  Monsieur  Laussat,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of 
an  equal,  "  this  diplomacy  has  gone  far  enough. 
Orleans  and  Louisiana  are  in  fact,  at  this  very  mo- 
ment, a  part  of  the  United  States.  The  First  Consul 
has  sold  them  to  the  President  for  a  large  and  suffi- 
cient compensation.  Nothing  remains  but  the  formal 
act  of  cession." 

"  Impossible !  "  cried  Laussat,  starting  from  his 
seat.  "  My  despatches  say  nothing  of  it." 

"  I  know  not  what  they  say,"  said  the  young  man, 
"  and  I  do  not  care.  Perhaps  you  will  do  me  the 
favor  to  look  at  mine." 


454  Philip  Nolan's  Friends  ; 

He  took  from  his  pocket  a  billet,  which,  as  he 
showed  to  the  prefect,  was  written  at  Malmaison,  with 
the  stamp  of  the  First  Consul's  cabinet  on  the  corner. 
It  was  in  the  handwriting  of  Madame  Bonaparte,  —  a 
playful  note  thanking  Roland  for  the  roses  he  had 
sent  her.  The  young  man  turned  the  first  page 
back,  and  pointed  to  a  postscript  on  the  last  page,  in 
the  cramped  writing,  not  so  well  known  then  as  now, 
of  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

The  words  were  these :  — 

MY  DEAR  SON,  —  We  speak  of  you  often,  and  we  wish  you 
were  in  France.  Say  to  your  honored  father,  who  knows 
how  to  keep  a  secret,  that  I  have  sold  Louisiana  to  Mr. 
Monroe.  He  well  knows  my  friendship  to  America :  let 
this  prove  it  to  him  again.  He  will  use  this  note  with 
discretion.  Health, 

BUONAPARTE. 
25  Germinal.     Year  XI. 

The  prefect  read  them,  and  read  them  again. 
"  Ldche,  imbecile,  traitre  /"  he  said,  between  his 
teeth,  as  he  gave  back  the  note  to  Roland. 

"  Your  excellency  may  be  curious  to  see  the  First 
Consul's  autograph,"  said  Roland ;  and  he  handed 
the  little  billet  to  the  governor  in  turn.  The  gov- 
ernor read  it  as  Roland  stood  by;  but,  as  he  was 
about  to  give  it  to  the  secretaries,  Roland  put  it  in 
his  pocket. 

"  Your  excellency  will  pardon  me.  It  is  my  note 
—  and  a  note  from  a  lady. 

"  And  now,"  he  said,  in  that  quiet  tone  of  com- 
mand which  became  him  so  well,  which  he  had  in- 
herited from  his  father,  "  as  among  friends,  we  must 


or,  Show  your  Passports  455 

confess  that  this  kind  announcement  from  the  First 
Consul  puts  a  new  arrangement  on  all  our  little  affairs 
in  this  room.  Your  excellency  will  perhaps  permit 
my  father  to  dine  at  home ;  and  I  think  Ransom  will 
find  us  some  good  sherry  in  which  to  drink  prosper- 
ity to  France  and  to  Spain/1 

But  the  "  moribund  old  man "  sat  with  his  head 
upon  his  breast,  pondering.  This  was  the  end,  then, 
of  Phil  Nolan's  murder ;  this  was  the  end  of  Elgue- 
zebal's  watchfulness;  this  the  end  of  interdicts  and 
protests,  and  all  the  endless  restrictions  of  these 
weary  years.  God  be  with  Mexico  and  Spain  ! 

He  said  nothing. 

Roland  turned  to  Laussat:  "  Will  your  excellency 
not  use  your  influence  with  the  governor?"  he  said. 

Laussat  looked  the  fool  he  was,  but  said  nothing. 

The  English  and  American  gentlemen  rose.  "  I 
am  to  report,  then,  to  Lord  Hawksbury,"  said  Lons- 
dale,  "  that  the  Spanish  Government  is  indifferent  to 
the  friendship  of  England."  He  took  his  hat  again, 
as  to  withdraw. 

"  I  am  to  write  to  Madame  Bonaparte,"  said  Roland 
Perry,  "  that  M.  Laussat  says  the  First  Consul  is  a 
coward,  an  imbecile,  and  a  traitor.  Gentlemen,  we 
seem  to  have  our  answers." 

The  poor  old  governor  raised  his  head.  "  I  shall 
be  glad  of  a  little  conference  with  his  excellency  the 
prefect,  our  friend  M.  Laussat.  Will  you  gentlemen 
await  us  in  the  next  salon?" 

They  waited  fifteen  minutes.  At  the  end  of  fifteen 
minutes  Mr.  Perry  and  Ransom  joined  them.  There 
was  a  civil  message  of  excuse  from  the  governor,  but 


456  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

he  did  not  appear;  nor  was  Laussat  visible  through 
the  day. 

And  so  they  left  the  governor's  house  in  triumph. 
Roland  Perry  could  hardly  come  close  enough  to  his 
father.  He  assured  himself  that  he  was  well,  and 
then  his  first  questions  were  for  news  from  Texas. 
Had  Caesar  been  set  free?  Had  any  of  Phil  Nolan's 
party  returned? 

No ;  but  Barelo  had  good  hopes.  The  trials  were 
proceeding  with  infinite  slowness ;  but  Barelo  and  all 
men  of  sense  hoped  still  that  Spanish  honor  would  be 
vindicated,  and  these  men,  who  had  certainly  enlisted 
in  faith  in  De  Nava's  pass,  would  be  set  free,  —  a 
hope  alas !  not  to  be  verified.1 

1  A  regular  trial  was  given  them,  of  which  the  proceedings  are  ex- 
tant. Don  Pedro  Ramos  de  Verea  conducted  the  defence  (will  not 
some  Texan  name  a  county  for  him?),  and  the  men  were  acquitted. 
The  judge,  De  Vavaro,  ordered  their  release,  Jan.  23,  1804 ;  but 
Salcedo,  alas  !  was  then  in  command  of  these  provinces :  he  counter- 
manded the  decree  of  acquittal,  and  sent  the  papers  to  the  king.  The 
king,  by  a  decree  of  Feb.  23,  1807,  ordered  that  one  out  of  five  of 
Nolan's  men  should  be  hung,  and  the  others  kept  at  hard  labor  for 
ten  years.  Let  it  be  observed  that  this  is  the  royal  decree  for  ten 
men  who  had  been  acquitted  by  the  court  which  tried  them. 

When  the  decree  arrived  in  Chihuahua,  one  of  the  ten  prisoners, 
Pierce,  was  dead.  The  new  judge  pronounced  that  only  one  of 
the  remaining  nine  should  suffer  death,  and  Salcedo  approved 
this  decision. 

On  the  Qth  of  November,  therefore,  1807,  the  adjutant-inspector, 
with  De  Verea,  the  prisoner's  counsel,  proceeded  to  the  barracks, 
where  they  were  confined,  and  read  the  king's  decision.  A  drum,  a 
glass  tumbler,  and  two  dice  were  brought,  the  prisoners  knelt  before 
the  drum,  and  were  blindfolded. 

Ephraim  Blackburn,  the  oldest  prisoner,  took  the  fatal  glass  and 

dice,  and  threw  3  and  I =4 

Lucian  Garcia  threw  3  and  4 =7 


or,  Show  your  Passports  457 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

A  FAMILY  DINNER 

*  Thus  for  the  boy  their  eager  prayers  they  joined, 
Which  fate  refused,  and  mingled  with  the  wind." 

Iliad. 

As  the  little  procession  passed  along  the  streets,  there 
was  almost  an  ovation  offered  to  Mr.  Perry  and  to 
Ransom.  From  every  warehouse  and  residence  some 
one  ran  out  to  felicitate  them.  Indeed,  the  mer- 
chants of  every  nation  had  felt  that  here  was  a  com- 
mon cause ;  and  Silas  Perry  was  so  universally 

Joseph  Reed  threw  6  and  5 =11 

David  Fero  threw  5  and  3 =8 

Solomon  Cooley  threw  6  and  5 =n 

Jonah  [Tony]  Walters  threw  6  and  I =7 

Charles  King  threw  4  and  3 —  7 

Ellis  Bean  threw  4  and  I =5 

William  Dowlin  threw  4  and  2 =6 

Poor  Blackburn,  having  thrown  the  lowest  number,  was  hanged  on 
the  nth  of  November. 

Ellis  Bean  afterward  distinguished  himself  in  the  revolt  against 
Spain,  which  freed  Mexico. 

Caesar  had  got  detached  from  the  party,  and  was  seen  by  Pike,  high 
up  on  the  Rio  Grande. 

Of  the  end  of  the  life  of  the  other  prisoners,  no  account  has  been 
found. 

We  owe  these  particulars  to  the  very  careful  researches  in  Monterey 
of  Mr.  J.  A.  Quintero,  who  has  taken  the  most  careful  interest  in  the 
fame  of  Philip  Nolan. 

People  who  are  fond  of  poetical  justice  will  be  glad  to  know  that 
Salcedo  was  exiled  in  the  first  effort  for  Texan  liberty  in  1813.  But 
so,  alas !  was  Herrara. 


458  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

respected  that  his  release  was  a  common  victory. 
Roland  walked  on  one  side  of  his  father,  and  Lons- 
dale  on  the  other,  while  Harrod  renewed  his  old  ac- 
quaintance with  Ransom.  Ransom  confessed  to  him 
that  of  all  the  strange  events  of  the  day  his  appear- 
ance had  surprised  him  most.  For,  if  there  were 
anything  regarding  which  Ransom  had  expressed 
himself  with  confidence  for  two  years  past,  it  was 
the  certainty  that  William  Harrod  had  been  scalped, 
burned  at  the  stake,  and  indeed  eaten. 

It  was  necessary  to  respect  the  open  secret  of  the 
First  Consul's  postscript  so  far  that  to  no  person  could 
the  result  of  Mr.  Livingston's  negotiation  be  distinctly 
told.  It  had,  of  course,  been  hoped  for  and  sus- 
pected already.  In  fact,  what  with  delays  in  the 
draft  of  the  treaty,  and  delays  in  transmission,  the  de- 
finitive intelligence  did  not  arrive  till  some  time  later. 
It  was  convenient  for  the  governor,  for  his  staff,  and 
for  Laussat  and  his,  to  speak  slightly  of  the  intelli- 
gence. But  this  was  of  no  account  to  those  who 
knew  the  truth  ;  and,  as  it  happened,  to  all  others 
the  "  law's  delay "  involved  no  consequences  of 
evil. 

Roland  hastily  told  his  story  to  his  father.  His 
inquiries  regarding  Ma- ry,  and  the  communications 
he  had  to  make  to  the  governors  of  Kentucky,  of 
Tennessee,  and  of  the  Northwest,  had  taken  him  far 
up  the  River  Ohio,  and  late  into  the  spring.  He 
had  determined  —  wisely  as  it  proved  —  not  to 
return  with  Lonsdale,  who  had  in  the  mean  while 
crossed  to  Fort  Niagara  and  to  Montreal,  and  then 
had  descended  the  Mississippi.  Roland  had  preferred 


or,  Show  your  Passports  459 

to  go  to  Washington,  to  make  full  statement  there  to 
Mr.  Jefferson  and  his  father's  old  correspondents  of 
the  excited  condition  of  Orleans,  knowing  that  he 
could  return  by  sea  with  more  certainty  than  by 
land  and  the  river. 

At  Washington  he  had  heard  the  celebrated  war 
debate  of  February.  Mr.  Jefferson  had  not  received 
him  into  any  close  confidence:  that  was  not  Mr. 
Jefferson's  way.  But  he  had  told  him  of  his  hopes 
that  Orleans  might  be  bought  for  the  United  States; 
and  Mr.  Madison  had  bidden  him  encourage  the 
merchants  to  hold  out  a  little  longer.  At  the 
French  legation  he  was  treated  more  cordially. 
They  gave  him  a  welcome  which  the  State  Depart- 
ment of  that  day  did  not  know  how  to  give,  and  late 
one  night  the  French  minister  sent  to  him,  and 
asked  him  if  he  would  take  his  despatches  to  Laussat 
when  he  returned. 

"  As  it  happened,"  said  Roland,  "  I  had  within  the 
hour  received  this  note  from  Madame  Bonaparte. 
Old  Turner  had  brought  it  to  me,  riding  express 
from  Baltimore  almost  as  I  have  ridden  from  Tybee. 
A  fortunate  curiosity  had  led  Turner  to  carry  the 
rose-bushes  to  Malmaison  himself.  He  was  still 
looking  at  the  garden  when  he  was  summoned  by 
a  lackey  to  the  house,  was  asked -who  he  was,  and 
had  confided  to  him  Madame  Bonaparte's  billet. 
She  came  into  the  hall,  and  gave  it  to  him  with 
her  own  hand,  with  a  sweet  smile.  Something  in 
what  she  said  made  Turner  think  the  note  was  more 
than  a  compliment.  Anyway,  he  had  seen  enough 
of  Paris,  he  said.  The  'Lady  Martha'  was  ready 


460  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

for  sea  at  Bordeaux;  and,  having  his  letter,  he  took 
post-horses,  and  rode  night  and  day  till  he  came 
there. 

"And  then,  sir,  they  made  the  'Lady  Martha' 
spin.  Wood  and  iron  never  crossed  that  ocean  so 
quickly  before.  He  ran  into  Baltimore  in  twenty 
days,  heard  from  Pollock  that  I  was  at  Washington, 
and  came  across  with  this  scrap  of  paper." 

Roland  felt  the  importance  of  the  message  thus  in- 
trusted to  him,  so  soon  as  he  had  read  it.  To  no 
human  being  in  Washington  did  he  dare  intrust  it; 
and  he  could  not  make  out,  in  the  few  minutes 
he  had  for  trying,  whether  the  French  minister 
had  received  any  corresponding  intelligence.  He 
sent  at  once  to  the  Spanish  legation,  to  offer  to 
carry  their  despatches  to  the  governor  of  Louisiana. 
Then  he  crossed  to  Baltimore,  where  the  "  Lady 
Martha"  had  been  unloading  some  oil  and  wine; 
and,  without  a  minute's  loss  of  time,  she  loosed 
from  the  pier,  and  went  down  the  bay. 

"  With  a  spanking  breeze  we  ran,"  said  the  young 
fellow.  "  By  the  time  we  were  off  Hatteras  it  was  a 
gale.  But  old  Turner  never  flinched.  Give  him  his 
due.  The  next  night  it  was  a  northeaster,  —  blew 
like  all  the  furies  !  How  she  walked  off!  Turner  said 
she  might  run  so  till  I  said  the  word.  I  never  said 
it.  Dark  it  was,  —  dark  as  Egypt ;  wet,  cold,  even 
snow  in  that  gale.  But  Turner  did  not  stop  her,  and 
I  did  not  stop  her." 

"  I  suppose  the  light-house  at  San  Augustino 
stopped  her,"  said  his  father,  laughing. 

"No,   sir;     but   the   breakers   off   Tybee    Sound 


or,  Show  your  Passports  461 

stopped  her;  and  there,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is 
the  '  Lady  Martha/  or  what  is  left  of  her,  this 
day." 

"She  could  not  have  run  her  last  in  a  better 
cause,"  said  his  father  warmly. 

"That's  what  I  said  to  Turner.  We  got  ashore, 
sir,  all  safe.  I  landed  with  this  bag  and  with  no  dry 
rag  on  me.  I  told  an  officer  we  found  there,  that  I 
had  government  despatches.  He  mounted  me  on 
the  best  horse  in  Georgia.  That  beast  took  me, 
to  whom  do  you  think?  —  to  Aunt  Eunice's  old 
admirer,  General  Bowles  ;  and  General  Bowles  has 
sent  me  through  since,  as  if  I  had  been  a  post-rider 
of  the  First  Consul's.  If  Aunt  Eunice  is  not  kind 
to  the  general  now,  she  is  graceless  indeed." 

Lonsdale  could,  this  time,  take  the  joking  for  what 
it  was  worth.  They  were  now  at  the  house.  The 
news  was  in  the  air,  and  all  the  ladies  flew  to  the 
gate  to  welcome  them. 

What  a  Sunday  it  was,  to  be  sure  !  How  much  to 
be  told  publicly,  how  much  to  be  told  privately,  how 
much  to  be  explained !  and  how  many  questions  to 
be  asked,  how  many  mysteries  to  be  solved !  For- 
tunately there  was  very  little  to  be  done.  Roland 
had  come  dashing  up  to  the  house  with  the  best 
stride  of  one  of  General  Bowles's  chargers,  at  a  very 
un-Sunday-like  pace. 

"  Lucky  for  you,  you  were  not  in  Squam,"  said  his 
father.  "  All  the  tithing-men  in  Essex  County  would 
have  been  after  you." 

"  Better  after  me  than  before  me,  my  dear  father. 
I  am  not  sure  whether  all  Essex  County  would  have 


462  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

overhauled  that  bright  bay  whom  Zenon  is  stuffing 
with  corn  in  the  stable  now.'* 

He  had  flung  the  rein  to  Antoine,  and  rushed  into 
the  house  to  hear  the  amazing  tale  of  the  women, 
as  to  his  father's  arrest  and  Ransom's. 

"  I  was  hardly  dressed  for  diplomacy,"  said  he ; 
"  but  I  thought  the  sooner  I  contributed  my  stock 
of  news,  the  better." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Lonsdale :  "  you  were  none  too 
soon.  We  had  all  played  up  our  last  pawns,  and  the 
governor  was  implacable." 

"Casa  Calvo  will  be  angry  enough,"  said  Mr. 
Perry,  "  when  he  knows  how  like  an  ass  Salcedo 
has  behaved.  But  his  visit  here  just  now  seems 
to  be  simply  one  of  ceremony." 

Before  dinner  was  announced,  Will  Harrod  suc- 
ceeded in  luring  Mr.  Perry  away  into  the  room 
which  was  called  his  office,  and  laying  before  him, 
with  a  young  man's  eagerness,  such  claim  as  he 
had  for  Inez's  hand.  A  blundering  business  he 
made  of  it,  but  her  father  helped  him. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  he,  "  this  is  hardly  matter  for 
argument.  I  do  not  think  my  girl  would  have  taken 
a  fancy  to  you,  had  you  not  been  a  Christian  gentle- 
man. More  than  that,  my  boy:  I  fancy  you  have 
found  favor  in  her  eyes  because  you  are  one  of 
Philip  Nolan's  friends.  For  me,  I  have  always  sup- 
posed that  some  man  would  want  to  take  a  girl 
so  lovely  to  his  heart  —  well,  as  I  took  her  mother; 
and,  if  you  will  only  love  this  child  as  I  loved  her, 
why,  I  can  ask  nothing  more." 

Harrod's  eyes  were  running  over.     He  could  only 


or,  Show  your  Passports  463 

repeat  the  certainty,  which  he  said  two  years  of  con- 
stancy had  given  him  a  right  to  proclaim,  that  Inez 
would  be  dearer  to  him  than  his  life. 

Eunice  was  never  known  before  to  apologize  for  a 
dinner;  and  never  in  after-life  did  she  so  apologize. 

"  But,  Roland,  we  were  so  wretched  this  morning ! 
If  we  had  only  known  you  were  coming,  why,  we 
would  have  killed  for  you  any  beast  fat  enough  on 
the  place." 

"And  why  did  you  not  know,  dear  aunty?  Why 
had  you  not  signal-officers  in  the  Creek  country  to 
telegraph  my  coming?  Is  the  general  so  tardy 
in  his  attentions?  Why,  I  had  but  to  ask,  and  the 
finest  horses  his  lieges  ever  stole  were  at  my  com- 
mand." 

Much  fun  there  was,  because  people  were  sup- 
posing, all  through  the  dinner,  that  those  had  met 
who  had  never  met,  and  that  everybody  understood 
everything. 

"One  question,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  you  will  permit 
me  to  ask,"  said  Harrod :  "  I  have  puzzled  myself 
over  it  not  a  little.  To  what  good  fortune  do  I 
owe  it  that  you  followed  me  into  the  governor's 
den  on  Thursday?  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  had 
seen  you  in  the  street,  and  had  thought  you  were 
some  intendant  or  other  who  meant  to  arrest  me. 
I  had  been  dodging  all  sort  of  catchpolls  for  three 
days  of  disguise." 

"You  were  not  far  from  right,"  said  Lonsdale 
quizzically. 

Everybody  laughed,  and  looked  inquiry. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  the  blunt  Kentuckian, 


464  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

taking  the  laugh  good-naturedly.  "  For  really  that 
was  a  great  stroke  of  luck;  but  for  you,  I  believe  we 
should  all  three  be  in  the  Gulf,  or  near  it,  at  this 
hour." 

Lonsdale  laughed  again;  and  then,  in  a  mock 
whisper  across  the  table,  he  said,  — 

"  I  met  a  man  in  the  street  with  my  best  frock-coat 
and  waistcoat  on,  and  I  followed  him  to  see  where 
he  was  going.  He  went  to  the  governor's  house,  and 
I  went  too." 

One  scream  of  laughter  welcomed  the  announce- 
ment, and  Harrod  and  Inez  laughed  loudest  of 
any. 

"  Woe  is  me  !  "  she  cried.  "  Woe  is  me !  I  am 
the  sinner,  as  I  always  am."  And  she  laughed  her- 
self into  a  paroxysm  again.  "Oh,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  if 
you  could  have  seen  him  that  morning!  I  turned 
him  into  Roland's  room,  and  bade  him  fix  himself 
up;  and  he  has  opened  the  large  wardrobe,  and 
helped  himself  to  the  clothes  Roland  bade  you  leave 
there." 

And  the  girl  screamed  with  delight  at  the  trans- 
formation. 

"  And  very  nice  clothes  they  are,"  said  Harrod, 
joining  in  the  fun.  "  And,  when  Mr.  Lonsdale  visits 
me  in  Kentucky,  I  will  replace  them  with  the  hand- 
somest hunting-suit  in  the  valley. 

"  How  was  I  to  know?  There  were  some  thread- 
paper  things  there,  which  I  see  now  would  fit  our 
diplomatic  friend  here ;  but,  for  a  broad-shouldered 
hunter  like  me,  give  me  Mr.  Lonsdale's  coat  and  waist- 
coat. Indeed,  Mr.  Roland,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  patron- 


or,  Show  your  Passports  465 

ize  the  English  tailors.     Your  French  snips  do  not 
give  cloth  enough." 

"  We  can  make  common  cause,"  said  Lonsdale. 
"  The  coat  and  waistcoat  fit  you  so  well  that  I  will 
double  my  orders  when  I  send  to  London ;  and,  as 
you  say,  you  can  bid  the  Frankfort  snips  duplicate 
yours  when  you  send  there.  We  will  play  the  two 
Dromios." 

The  little  speech  was  wholly  unconscious.  So  far 
had  Lonsdale  looked  into  the  future  in  these  two  or 
three  days,  so  happy  to  him,  though  so  anxious  to 
all,  that  he  quite  forgot  that  the  others  had  not 
accompanied  him  in  those  fore-looks,  not  Eunice  her- 
self, from  whom  he  thought  he  had  no  secret. 

Quick  as  light,  and  pitiless  as  herself,  Inez  caught 
the  inference,  and  proclaimed  it.  She  clapped  her 
hands,  while  Eunice  first,  and  Lonsdale  in  sympathy, 
turned  crimson. 

"  Bravo,  bravissimo  !  "  cried  the  light-hearted  girl. 
"The  first  American  citizen  adopted  in  the  new  State 
of  Louisiana  is  his  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of 
Clarence.  On  the  Acadian  coast  he  will  establish  his 
vineyard  for  the  growth  of  grapes  and  the  manufac- 
ture of  malmsey.  From  a  throne  on  the  levee,  he 
will  rule  Great  Britain,  Ireland,  and  France,  when  his 
royal  father  at  length  throws  off  the  uneasy  crown. 
Mistress  Inez  Perry  will  be  appointed  first  lady  of 
the  robes.  But  where,  oh !  where,  my  dear  Aunt 
Eunice,  where  shall  we  find  him  a  duchess  ?  How 
would  Mademoiselle  Selina  de  Valois  do  ? " 

"  She  will  not  do  at  all/'  cried  Lonsdale;  his  light 
heart,  and  the  sense  of  so  many  victories,  conquering 

30 


466  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

all  reticence.  "  The  Duchess  is  found  ;  the  throne  is 
in  building;  the  coronet  is  ready  in  the  wardrobe  up- 
stairs, if  the  Prince  of  Kentucky,  Cavalier  of  the  Red 
River,  and  Marshal  of  the  Big  Raft,  have  not  needed 
it  for  purposes  of  his  diplomacy ;  all  that  the  Duchess 
needs  is  her  brother's  good-will,  and  —  " 

"  And  what?"  cried  Inez,  laughing  still. 

"  The  presence  of  her  niece  as  bridesmaid,  when 
she  gives  her  hand  to  '  The  Man  I  Hate/  " 

And  the  taciturn  and  undemonstrative  Mr.  Lons- 
dale,  to  Ma-ry's  unspeakable  delight,  waved  his  fruit- 
knife  as  if  he  would  scalp  Inez,  and  bear  off  her 
luxuriant  tresses  as  a  trophy. 

The  frankness  of  this  bit  of  by-play  was  more  like 
the  style  of  Sir  Charles  Grandison's  days  than 
Eunice  really  liked ;  and  Mr.  Perry,  to  relieve  her, 
said,  — 

"  Nobody  has  told  me  how  you  all  knew  where  I 
was,  or  where  Ransom  was." 

Inez  nodded  to  Ma-ry,  and  made  a  sign  with  her 
hand. 

"May  I  ?"  asked  Ma-ry  of  her  grandmother,  who 
did  not  at  all  understand,  and  gave  assent  from  the 
mere  joyous  habit  of  the  day,  by  accident. 

So  Ma-ry  sprung  from  her  seat,  ran  across  the 
room,  skipped  upon  a  side-table,  and  there  repeated 
the  signals  which  had  told  where  Mr.  Perry  was  shut 
up,  and  where  they  should  find  Ransom. 

Ransom,  meanwhile,  had  honored  the  occasion  as 
he  honored  few  ceremonies  in  life.  He  appeared  in 
a  handsome  black  coat  and  breeches,  with  a  white 
necktie.  Some  footman  whom  he  had  seen  in  Paris, 


or,  Show  your  Passports  467 

in  some  livery  of  mourning,  may  have  suggested  the 
costume.  Eunice  might  have  given  a  state  ball  to 
a  travelling  emperor,  and  Ransom  would  not  have 
assumed  this  dress  except  to  please  himself.  When 
he  did  assume  it,  all  parties  knew  that  he  was  entirely 
satisfied  with  the  position.  He  filled  Roland's  glass 
with  some  of  the  favorite  claret. 

"  Here's  ye  father's  own  claret,  Mr.  Roland  ;  found 
the  bin  this  morning." 

Then  Roland  knew  that  all  was  sunny. 

"  As  the  governor  did  not  honor  us,  we  need  not 
order  up  the  sherry.  Indeed,  I  am  not  sure  that 
Ransom  could  have  found  it,"  said  Mr.  Perry,  looking 
good-naturedly  at  the  dear  old  fellow. 

Perhaps  Ma-ry's  welcome  to  Roland  had  been  the 
prettiest  of  all.  Although  Mrs.  Willson  had  felt  at 
ease  with  Lonsdale  and  Eunice,  Roland  seemed  to 
her  the  oldest  friend  of  all.  It  was  he  who  had 
wrought  out  the  whole  inquiry;  it  was  he  who  had 
traced  her  from  village  to  village,  from  State  to  Ter- 
ritory, and  through  him  that  Eunice  had  found  her, 
and  that  she  had  found  her  darling.  And  now  that 
she  saw  the  sun-browned  young  fellow  the  hero  of 
the  day ;  now  that  he  was  constantly  coming  back  to 
dear  Ma-ry's  side,  to  ask  her  this  and  to  tell  her  that, 
and  to  praise  her  for  the  central  service  which  she 
had  rendered  to  them  all,  —  the  old  lady  felt  more  at 
ease  with  him  than  with  Mr.  Perry,  of  whom  she  was 
afraid ;  with  Mr.  Lonsdale,  whom  she  never  half 
understood  ;  nay,  even  more  than  with  Mr.  Harrod, 
the  Kentuckian. 

And  Ma-ry!     She  had  gained  everything   in  this 


468  Philip  Nolan's  Friends; 

year,  the  young  man  thought,  and  she  had  lost 
nothing.  She  was  a  woman  now.  Yes !  but  she 
was  a  lovely  girl  as  well.  She  could  give  him  both 
her  hands ;  she  could  look  up  as  frankly  as  ever  in 
his  face  ;  she  could  talk  to  him  of  the  thousand  new 
experiences  of  the  year ;  and  yet,  in  all  the  simplicity 
of  her  bearing,  there  was  never  one  word  or  gesture 
but  the  finest  lady  at  a  ball  at  Malmaison  might  have 
been  glad  to  use.  And  Ma-ry  was  not  afraid  to  tell 
him  how  well  he  looked,  and  how  glad  she  was  that 
he  had  come.  A  long,  jolly,  home-like  dinner:  they 
loitered  at  the  table,  almost  till  twilight  came.  Then 
Eunice  said, — 

"  Will  it  not  be  pleasanter  on  the  gallery  ?  I  will 
order  coffee  there." 

But  Roland  detained  them. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  all,"  he  said,  "  what  I  was  telling 
Mr.  Harrod.  At  Fort  Washington  whom  should  I 
meet  but  a  fine  little  fellow,  Inez,  a  good  mate  for  you 
some  day,  who  fascinated  me  at  the  very  first.  He 
had  just  come  over  from  Frankfort,  and  had  on  his 
nice  new  uniform,  his  bright  shoulder-knots,  and  his 
new  sword.  He  was  a  little  bit  homesick  withal. 
Well,  I  remembered  how  homesick  such  a  boy  feels. 
I  asked  them  to  introduce  me  ;  and  they  introduced 
to  me  Ensign  Philip  Nolan." 

Everybody  started.     "  Philip  Nolan  !  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  the  cousin  of  our  dear  Phil.  Did  not 
I  want  to  hug  him  ?  I  did  tell  him  more  of  our 
Philip  than  he  knew.  I  told  him  of  poor  Fanny 
Lintot,  and  the  little  baby  cousin  there." 

"  One   day   we   will   tell   him,"    said    Silas   Perry 


or,  Show  your  Passports  469 

solemnly,  "  how  much  the  country  owes  to  his 
cousin's  cruel  martyrdom.  If  our  brave  friend  Phil 
Nolan  had  not  gone  to  Texas,  these  rascals  would 
never  have  got  their  terror  of  the  Valley  men.  It 
was  he  who  taught  them  how  near  was  Kentucky  to 
Potosi.  The  moment  they  learned  that,  they  lost 
their  heads. 

"  From  Phil  Nolan  came  Salcedo's  madness. 

"  From  their  frightened  despatches  home,  came  the 
easy  gift  of  all  this  country  to  France. 

"  From  Salcedo's  madness  comes  the  uprising  of  the 
Western  hunters,  and  the  first  real  recognition  of  the 
West  by  the  Congress  of  America. 

"  Good  fellow !  in  all  his  wildness,  Philip  Nolan 
never  was  afraid. 

"  He  has  done  more  for  his  country  than  he 
meant. 

"  In  all  his  rashness,  he  has  served  her  so  that  she 
can  never  pay  her  debt  to  him. 

"  Listen  to  me,  Inez :  I  shall  not  live  to  see  this, 
but  you  and  your  children  will. 

"What  Casa  Calvo  calls  Nolan's  mad  act  has 
given  Louisiana  to  your  country:  it  will  give  her 
Texas. 

"When  the  tug  comes,  you  will  find  that  every 
Spaniard  dreads  the  prowess  of  Philip  Nolan's  race, 
and  that  every  Kentuckian  remembers  the  treachery 
of  Philip  Nolan's  murder. 

"  Poor  fellow !  how  often  I  have  heard  him  say 
that  he  did  not  know  what  country  he  served,  or  what 
army  gave  him  his  commission. 

"This   cousin,   his   namesake,   is   more  fortunate. 


470  Philip  Nolan's  Friends 

Ransom,  fill  the  glasses.     We  will  drink  this  young 
ensign's  health. 

"To  Ensign  PHILIP  NOLAN,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men. May  the  young  man  never  know  what  it  is 
to  be 

"A  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY!" 


